


Drarry Advent Drabbles (25 Days of Draco and Harry 2020--Traditional)

by ActorPotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 25 Days of Harry and Draco, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Architecture porn, BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Consensual Kink, Cunnilingus, Depression, Dildos, Dom Harry Potter, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Draco Malfoy in Lingerie, Emotional Sex, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Food Porn, Gender Affirmation Potion, Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lemon, Light Angst, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Magic Personified, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Other, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Pet Names, Polyjuice Potion, Praise Kink, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Romantic Fluff, Room of Requirement Shenanigans, Sex Toys, Sexual Tension, Squirting, Sub Draco Malfoy, Subspace, Teasing, Trans Draco Malfoy, Voyeurism, Working through intense trauma, breath play, christmas markets, gender euphoria, genderfluid draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 46,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActorPotter/pseuds/ActorPotter
Summary: A series of Drabbles written for the 25 Days of Draco and Harry 2020 fest (using the traditional prompts). They are mostly unrelated drabbles, though sometimes I will continue stories from previous days if inspiration hits. Also, I plan to pick and choose some of them and other drabbles I've written to create a full story in the next months, so keep a look out for that!
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 28
Kudos: 88
Collections: 25 Days of Draco and Harry 2020





	1. The First Snowfall

“Sleigh bells ring… are you listening? In the laaaaaaaane… snow is glistening!” Harry’s voice cracked as he sustained the notes of his favorite Christmas carol just a few seconds too long. Draco rolled his eyes, silently dying under the grating sound of his beloved’s terrible singing voice.

“A beautiful sight… we’re happy tonight…walking in a winter wonderland!” Harry took his husband’s hand and spun him around, their kids giggling at their sides.

“Oh, Harry, please,” Draco begged, “My dearest love, I don’t know if my ears can take it!” Draco teased Harry.

“Daddy!” Scorpius admonished him, and Draco raised his eyebrows at his son. “Papa, Harry can’t help it that his voice is so bad. But he sings from the heart— and that’s what’s important!”

The little tyke had certainly put him in his place and Draco nodded seriously.

“You’re right, son.” Draco turned to his lover and said “My apologies, sweetheart. What do you say we all join you on the next verse, eh?” The three of them and Albus Severus were taking their First Snowfall walk through the grandiose gardens of Grimmauld Place. It was a tradition to take a walk as family during the first snow of the season. Draco had shared this with Harry the very first Advent they spent together as a couple.

Coming from a…traditional family, Draco knew quite a bit of ancient magic passed down through the generations. This particular ritual the Potter-Malfoy family was going to cast today was actually the first bit of magic Draco could remember—the first spell he ever learned how to cast and control on his own. It was the only spell his parents allowed him to cast…on purpose, of course…before he went to Hogwarts.

Draco had sat Harry down, and, in a very Hermione-ish fashion, had offered him a book that perfectly explained the ritual and how they would weave the elemental magic of the Earth with their own. The earliest memory Draco had was of himself standing with his parents in their garden, in front of a bonfire and reaching out as if to touch the strands of golden magic emanating from his mother’s hands. And then, when he was five, he was already able to control the energy of the spell with the support of his parents.

In addition to a mutual spell that the Potter-Malfoy family would cast together, intermingling their familial magic together with the Earth, it was traditional for each participant to make their own private wish to manifest until the next year’s First Snow Fall. Sometimes this was the most meaningful part of the ritual for Draco, who had made some huge wishes over the years that had ended up changing his life. There was no doubt in his mind that the ancient magic at the core of this ritual was immensely powerful. But he knew it wasn’t dark. It was noticeably clear from his research and experience that this spell was grey as grey could be, completely dependent on the intent of the casters.

Their own boys were now eight years old and had been casting the spell with the support of their dads for the past two years now, but they were optimistic they’d be able to hold their own power this year.

“Don’t push yourselves,” Draco had warned them, when the boys had revealed their desire a couple weeks ago to cast the spell independently this year. A few more ground rules were discussed, but, in the end, Draco was honestly immensely proud of his children for taking a leap of faith and trusting their magic.

“Are you ready?” Albus Severus whispered as the boys walked slightly ahead of their parents on the snow-covered path.

“Yes, of course,” Scorpius answered, loud enough for the adults to hear and Harry snickered while Draco bit back a smile.

“Are you nervous?” Harry asked Albus.

“Yes! You only get one extra special wish with the extra special magic of the First Snowfall and I don’t want to waste it on the wrong thing!”

Harry nodded and ruffled Albus’ hair, as messy and out-of-control as his own. “I hear that you’re nervous about making the wrong choice.”

Albus nodded and Draco saw him bite his lip.

“You know,” Draco said, “You can’t really make a bad choice.”

“How’s that?” Albus frowned at his father.

“Well, every choice you make will lead to so-called good and bad outcomes. And what you learn from each of those outcomes is going to help you make more choices for the future which will lead to even more choices!” Draco noticed Harry staring at him. The former Gryffindor still did that sometimes, and Draco liked to tease that he was just as disarming to Harry as he was at Hogwarts. He glared at Harry lovingly, puckering his lips at the same time and the slightly shorter man lifted his head to kiss Draco.

“You know, it’s kind of like Quidditch in that way…” Draco began.

“Oh, Merlin! Papa, you can’t make everything into a Quidditch metaphor!” Albus Severus rolled his eyes dramatically and Draco’s husband let out a howl of laughter.

“This is a good one!” Draco defended himself. “I was going to say that—oh, shut up, Potter,” Draco glared at Harry again, less lovingly than before, but, of course, any of the malice that he had felt for the man as a teenager was also clearly absent.

“I was going to say that—” He paused melodramatically to make sure his family was listening and then continued: “You have many choices when you’re sitting on your broom looking for that Snitch. Are you going to fly down to the right? Or up and towards the left? I don’t know what I’ll find once I get there. Hopefully, the Snitch. But probably not. I’ll probably find…another choice I need to make. And I’ll follow that choice to another and another, until I finally capture that Snitch. Like I did every time, mind you. Your father never won—”

“You’re such a liar, Draco.” Harry scowled. “And when they get to Hogwarts, they’ll learn everything about—”

“Anyways,” Draco interrupted, kissing his lover on the cheek. “You might as well make a choice, Albus. Because you don’t know where any of these choices will lead you, but you do know you can learn from any one of them! And learning—”

“—is the most important thing we can use our minds for.” It was Scorpius who had continued his father’s thought. He continued, “Yeah, Daddy, we get it. It’s not like you haven’t mentioned it before.”

“Once or twice,” Albus Severus added, grinning from ear to ear.

“You really are very much a Ravenclaw in many ways,” Harry said, lacing his emerald green gloves with Draco’s silver ones.

“So you’ve mentioned, I believe. Once or twice.” Draco winked at Albus Severus, who struggled to wink back, giving an odd quick blink with both eyes. But Draco nodded and put his right thumb and forefinger together. Perfect, he mouthed, and the young Potter’s eyes lit up.

“What are you going to wish for, my love?” Harry asked Draco while readjusting Scorpius’ hat as it was threatening to slip over his eyes.

“Oh, the usual,” Draco said vaguely. His answer every year.

“The usual,” Harry repeated and though Draco wasn’t looking at him in that moment, he heard a smile in the former Gryffindor’s voice.

“Does this look good to everyone?” Harry asked, jolting Draco out of his thoughts. They had come to a halt in a part of the garden where they enjoyed having scavenger hunts with the kids in springtime.

“It’s perfect!” Scorpius said and Albus Severus quickly nodded several times, his signature grin back in place.

“Once again, your beautiful eye has not failed us in finding the perfect spot, love.” Draco squeezed his lover’s hand.

“Let’s collect some woo—” But the children were already rushing from tree to tree searching for fallen twigs and branches for their bonfire. Draco laughed as Harry stared after them, his mouth hanging slightly open.

“We definitely did something right…raising those two,” Draco said as he placed his hand on his lover’s shoulder, squeezing enough to be felt gently beneath Harry’s thick winter coat.

“Yeah,” Harry said, sighing and turning to face his husband. “We sure did.”

Draco saw Harry lift his chin, a sign he recognized as the other man asking to be kissed, and Draco happily obliged. The two stood there, huddled warm, snowflakes from the First Snowfall landing and melting on their eyelashes, Scorpius and Albus Severus throwing snowballs and shrieking joyously, having gone and gotten themselves distracted from their hunt for firewood. But there was no rush. They had time. Oh, yes. They had all the time in the world.


	2. "I swear to Merlin this Room is ALWAYS On Your Side..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco spend Christmas by the fire in the Room of Requirement the first year they're working at Hogwarts as professors. Things get steamy ;) (Don't worry, there will be a part two of this coming soon!) (Rated: M/Explicit)

Harry wasn’t sure what to do. The Room had obviously set themselves up for a..um..very romantic Christmas evening together. The fireplace was burning, and the magical atmosphere of the room sizzled as Harry took in all the lovely decorations.

“The Room has always taken good care of us,” Draco whispered and then nibbled Harry’s earlobe gently, making the former Gryffindor moan aloud.

The two of them had just started their prospective teaching jobs at Hogwarts—Harry in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Draco in Potions. After the war, Harry had been inspired to keep teaching others as opposed to being out on the frontlines like he’d had to be his whole life. Last Autumn, Harry had encouraged his new boyfriend to consider applying for the other open vacancy at Hogwarts—Potions. It was perfect for him, and the former Slytherin only needed a little convincing. Harry knew that Draco had the potential to be a fantastic teacher. Draco _had_ been forced to tutor him during their 8th year together, and Harry had even qualified for the Auror exam (even though he later decided not to take it).

The two settled down on a soft blanket in front of the fireplace, Harry leaning his head on the other man's chest. Snow was falling outside the windows, and it felt like the warmest, most tender Christmas Harry had ever celebrated.

“So…” Harry trailed off.

Draco grinned. “So…what?”

Harry lifted his head from Draco’s chest and noticed the blond was smiling down at him. Harry returned the grin and brought his lips up to meet Draco’s. Draco moaned into his kiss, parting his lips to let Harry in.

As Harry kissed his boyfriend in the Room of Requirement that Christmas, he recalled how he had stolen his first kiss from Draco just a few feet away from where they were sitting now, during Sixth Year.

Despite all the…horror of that year, they had connected every couple weeks: sharing passionate kisses and finally exploring each other’s body more intimately than either Draco or Harry had been willing to admit to their friends at the time. Ron, the rest of the Weasleys, Hermione, as well as Blaise were now all very informed about the seriousness of their relationship.

“Oh, Draco,” Harry moaned, his lips still pressed against the other man’s.

“I love you, Harry,” Draco said, parting from him only an inch before kissing Harry’s forehead, directly on top of the scar which hadn’t irritated him since Dumbledore’s downfall.

“I love you, Draco,” Harry whispered and inhaled deeply. Draco was wearing a new Christmas jumper from Mrs. Weasley (green and with a cauldron on the front to celebrate his new job). Harry noticed that Draco’s own scent was already emanating from the new jumper—mint, a hint of citrus, and something else—something Harry smelled nowhere else, except when he was lucky enough to be this close to his lover.

In one swift movement, Draco’s beautiful new jumper and shirt had disappeared, Harry having pulled them over his head with the deftness that only came from being a skilled Seeker.  
Before Draco could prepare, Harry placed his lips over his right nipple. “Ahh!” Draco said, his body shocked by the sudden intrusion, but quickly growing excited. Draco was soon panting and mewling, a sound Harry lived for in these moments. He enjoyed teasing the former Slytherin so much—and to prove it, he gently released his teeth, which he’d been protecting with his lips and started to nibble softly around the now hard nipple. Draco’s breathing slowed and deepened as he concentrated on the mutual feeling of pain and pleasure that Harry was giving him. Finally, Harry licked the nipple sharply, causing a gasp to escape his partner.

“Oh, Harry,” Draco groaned.. “Please… no more teasing tonight. I just want you.”

Harry grinned, pleased at having wound Draco up so quickly.

“Are you ready?” Harry whispered, kissing his way down Draco’s chest and stopping exactly where he knew Draco would let out a frustrated moan. Draco did not disappoint.

“Harry!” Draco’s frustration was evident in every sound of Harry’s name dropping from the former Slytherin’s lips.

Harry chuckled. “You really don’t think I’d deny you on Christmas, do you?”

“No,” Draco admitted, “But I remember my birthday this past June…”

Harry’s grin turned slightly evil. Playfully evil. He remembered June 5th of this year quite well. He had tied Draco up with some magical ropes and gagged him with his old Gryffindor tie. What a brilliant idea, Harry thought mischievously, and wasn’t surprised at all when a nicely folded tie appeared on the blanket in front of them. Draco groaned, feeling outnumbered.

“I swear to Merlin this Room is ALWAYS on your side,” Draco mumbled, but his arousal was unmistakable as he practically salivated, looking at the Room’s most recent gift—an immensely kitschy improvised toy—a green tie with golden snitches bedecked in red Father Christmas hats.

Harry reached out and retrieved the tie. He kept his eyes on Draco’s as he intently wrapped and unwrapped the tie around his own hand and wrist.

“Mmm..feels great, Draco,” Harry purred, “Do you want it?”

All Draco could do was nod. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth obediently, but Harry had other plans. The former Gryffindor took the Room’s Christmas present and unwrapped it from his wrist. Then, very slowly, he tied it around Draco’s eyes. The blond froze for a moment, shocked at the unexpected sensation around his eyes. But the sensation building in his trousers was a lot more distracting in that moment…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry :D
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! I drew the Ace of Pentacles from my Tarot deck, and took that as inspiration to write about their first year working at Hogwarts together <3


	3. A Family for Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW and tags: mentions of childhood ab*se and PTSD (Harry’s malnourishment, starvation, and verbal ab*se by the Dursleys), grief and mourning, hurt and comfort, angst with some fluff, established relationship, one shot. 
> 
> Day 3 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry! The newly married pair tries to go Christmas shopping at "Harrodz" (a wizarding department store that closely resembled the muggle "Harrods.") Little does Harry know (and let's be honest, I, the author, also had no idea this was going to happen) that he's going to be working through some past childhood trauma with the unconditional love and support his new family--Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Drarry lovers!  
> Three notes before we start ^^
> 
> Please keep in mind: I am personifying magic in this chapter. Magic is represented in a visual way and the two of them can perceive it. They also have a very intense magical connection. These are things I would love to explore in a longer fic, but in this one shot I figured giving you a heads up would be better than going into all of that right now. I'll expand later, I promise ;) 
> 
> Also: I havn't had a chance to edit this for my Americanisms. I hope they won't be too jarring to those British readers--I promise to do my research when I go back and edit everything when this month is over :* 
> 
> And finally,
> 
> Real talk: I had a very personal, emotional, spiritual experience while writing this chapter. I guess I had some trauma there I didn’t know I was going to dive into today, and I’m so glad I had the opportunity to do so. More smut will come later in the month (supposedly, lol! I sure hope so, but we will see what’s in the cards hahaha ^^) 
> 
> **Ohhh another note, as I do a final read through :D I use the term "wix" to describe a gender neutral magical human and the pronouns they/them to refer to magical humans Harry does not (yet) know the correct pronouns for.

“Are you serious right now, Draco?”

“What?”

“This is your idea of… ‘brightening up my dreary-arse humbug self?’”

Draco heaved a sigh. “Potter, just stop being a prat, and give it a fucking chance.”

Harry mumbled something under his breath, but shuffled over to his Draco and leaned in to kiss his lips.

“Fine.” Harry’s tone had softened, but Draco was still wary.

“You’re keeping an open mind?”

“Yes, for Merlin’s sake let’s go!” Harry placed his hand in the other man’s and gently turned on his heel, apparating himself and his lover to "Harrodz," a wizarding department store that closely resembled the muggle "Harrods."

As soon as they arrived in the Apparition Room of the department store, even before Harry had recovered from the trip, his nostrils were assaulted by the heavy aromas of peppermint, melted chocolate, and a burning fireplace.

“Wow. It is…exactly as you described it,” Harry said delicately. It was true. The Christmas atmosphere was most definitely prevalent from the very first second, exactly as Draco had told him over tea that morning.

“Potter, you haven't even taken one step inside yet. Come, let’s start with a hot chocolate to walk with.”

“To walk with?! Aren’t they… worried about people spilling on…I dunno, a thousand-Galleon set of robes?”

“Harry,” Draco put his hands on the former Gryffindor’s shoulders and brought his grey eyes to meet Harry's emerald green ones. “This is one of those ‘you forgot you were a wizard’ moments. Do you want to try again?”

“Don’t patronize me. Tosser.” But Harry did think about it, and as they walked past a mall kiosk where a kindly wix with bright pink hair was selling winter jumpers. A child wearing a Ravenclaw scarf (who, from their size, was probably only a first year at Hogwarts) suddenly spilled the contents of their Christmas Snitch Mug all over a bright red jumper.

Harry heard the pink-haired wix working the kiosk say: “Happens all the time! Look here—” They took out their wand, made some flourishing swishes and flicks and said, “Schurnulus!” Bright purple strands of magic wound their way around the garment to find the chocolate splashes. It started to glow and hum as the light from the magic banished the chocolate stains, leaving a fresh lilac scent, wafting off in small puffs of leftover magical energy. Harry thought it looked rather like a muggle iron had just released a bunch of steam over the garment.

This, Harry thought cynically, was probably the whole reason they set up this fancy, shmooz-y “eat and shop” system in the first place:

Step 1. Offer potentially messy food and drinks around precious magical garments and other items that cost hundreds, if not thousands, of Galleons.  
Step 2. Expect people to make a mess. And then finally:   
Step 3. Show off their impressive wand and spell work that (oh, imagine that!) must go into each and every one of the items they sell at "Harrodz."

Capitalism at its finest. Harry rolled his eyes.

But he was pulled out of his musings about the evils of capitalism by the child exclaiming happily and ecstatically pointing at the jumper, which was good as new. The pink-haired wix grinned, obviously pleased at having sparked so much joy in the child. They were now gazing at the garment in astonishment, telling their parents to come look.

The older wix reminded Harry so much of Tonks with her hair, charm and knack for entertainment. As Harry and Draco passed the kiosk, Harry squeezed the other man’s hand, lest the wave of grief crash too hard in that moment.

This…was just particularly difficult for Harry. This shopping thing. This…Christmas thing. And Harry understood why Draco loved this department store. He could tell that if he were coming at this from Draco's perspective, having grown up in a traditional pureblood family, there was a lot of magic and tradition revolving around Christmas that Harry didn’t understand. Yet, Harry was working on it, because for the first time in his life, he wanted to create his own family traditions.

Yes, the Weasleys had always allowed him to crash during the holidays ever since he became friends with Ron—and he loved them dearly for it. But now that Harry finally had Draco—yes, finally—he was ready to start his own traditions. Draco already had some fond memories and traditions to draw on for inspiration, but this was something Harry realized he had lacked during the most formative years of his life, until he left for Hogwarts.

It was only after the War that he was able to actually start dealing with the trauma of his childhood. And now he's expected to be a grown-up: a grown-up wizard who grew up in a muggle family who hated him and all he was. An adult, who'd had to raise himself, who never had an actual parent in the house to teach him how to live, how to be a… well, just a person.

Physically healthy people can't be created by being malnourished or starved—a mentally healthy person isn’t going to just rise from the ashes like a phoenix. Not when they're abused every day; forced to hide their true selves behind another's toxic beliefs about them.

“Where are you right now?” Draco asked. He had stopped them in their tracks, tilted his head, and looked as though he were trying to read Harry’s face. Having found something obviously amiss, he gently guided him to an empty bench nearby, just outside their destination: "Ye Olde Drinking Chocolate." They had just turned the corner. The jumper kiosk, which had been the catalyst for Harry’s latest spiral was now out of sight. But not out of mind.

Draco murmured, “Muffliato,” and turned to Harry. He was facing him full on, his body, mind, and magic acutely attuned and Harry settled into that unconditional support from his partner.

“You’re lost. Where did you go?” Draco reached out a hand and stroked his lover’s face, encouraging Harry to look him in the eyes whenever he was ready. Finally, Harry did look up and, feeling as if Draco’s eyes were holding him in a tender and safe embrace, told him all about how he'd been triggered as they’d passed the jumper kiosk, his hatred of capitalism, the pangs of grief still washing over him all these years later, the PTSD of his childhood, and the war.

Draco listened and didn't speak for a while after Harry finished. He knew it was because Draco wanted to be sure he was finished, and he gave his lover a small nod to signal this to him.

Still, Draco did not respond, but kept holding space for Harry, his memories, his emotions. As Harry had done for him many times before and would continue to do throughout their relationship.

Neither of them had escaped their youth without scars.

“What would you like to have happen right now?” Draco asked.

Harry took a deep breath. He imagined the choices and scenarios of how he could spend the rest of the day, that hour, those 60 seconds between 11:13 and 11:14 a.m.

Finally, he said, “I want to go chop down a Christmas tree.”

Draco, as prepared as he had been to receive Harry’s response, looked at him with widened eyes and gaped slightly, but able to form the single word:

“You?” Draco asked, his incredulity immensely ill-disguised.

Harry was not offended, in fact, he let out a much-needed burst of laughter.

“Yes, Draco, me.” The former Slytherin joined him in his laughter, and soon the two were gasping for air, trying to get themselves back under control.

Finally, Draco cleared his throat. “Sounds hot. My very own lumberjack. Please tell me you’ll wear flannel.”

“Oh, baby, you know I will.” Harry winked at him. Little strands of excitement, hope, and arousal wrapped around the grief and anxiety which, momentarily felt more grounded and peaceful inside him than just five minutes ago.

“I’m glad you took me shopping today,” Harry said.

Draco narrowed his eyes, “You’re so confusing, Potter. We didn’t actually go shopping, or is your memory that short?”

Harry smirked. “Shut it, Malfoy and listen to me.”

“Yes, love,” Draco said and mimicked casting a locking spell on his lips. Or at least, that’s what Harry assumed he was doing. It could have been something very sexual, and Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing and stay on topic.

“I’m glad you took me shopping today,” Harry repeated. “I got to be with my favorite person. Actually be...myself. And I appreciate you so much.”

Draco rolled his eyes and smiled. “I know you do. You told me this morning after I’d prepared your morning tea.”

Harry returned the smile. “It was true then, and it’s true now.”

Draco nodded. Harry sensed the love and magic reaching out from the other man, and Harry met him in the middle, mentally shifting his magic to combine with his lover’s, and the two sat on the bench, unaffected by the other wixen bustling past, in and out of the shops, all at different speeds, all with different goals for the holiday season.

The two men let their magic intertwine, resting on each other’s foreheads, eyes closed, and clasping hands. Harry breathed in deeply and showed Draco in his mind’s eye the perfect Christmas tree.

Harry sensed Draco's grin widening as the image was passed to him. He continued to add to the scene, adding the memory of the scent of Evergreen pine...

Draco chuckled. “Okay, okay! I know just the place. Did I ever tell you my mother has a Christmas tree garden?”

Harry widened his eyes and Draco laughed, kissing him on the mouth. “Come. Let’s go. She’s invited us for tea this week, anyway, might as well make it a surprise visit!”

“Let’s buy some drinking chocolate to make while we’re there! For the three of us, of course."

Draco raised an eyebrow in a perfectly Malfoyish fashion. "Drinking chocolate and christmas tree chopping with my mother. A family tradition?"

Harry nodded. "Sounds perfect to me."

“Ready?” Draco stood up and held his hand out to help his lover. Harry laced his fingers in Draco’s and the two turned on their heels to make their way into "Ye Olde Drinking Chocolate" where they saw the child from the jumper kiosk getting a new drink with their parents. Harry grinned and he and Draco took their place in line behind the family.

His lover lightly squeezed his hand and Harry took the opportunity to glance down at their intertwined fingers. For a brief second, he blissfully noticed he couldn’t tell which were his and which were Draco’s. And he knew. He knew he’d found his family at last.


	4. A Very Drarry Christmas...Tree?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: M/Explicit
> 
> Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, BDSM, Dom/Sub sexual relationship, Sexual tension, teasing, improvised bondage, the Room of Requirement, compliment kink, pet names, improvised blindfold, voyeurism/exhibition, subspace, begging, punishment and reward, risk-aware consensual kink, sexual choking
> 
> This is part 4 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry, but part 2 of the fic started on Day 2, so be sure to go back and read "I swear to Merlin this Room is ALWAYS On Your Side..." before this chapter if you wanna really... set the mood ;)
> 
> Summary:
> 
> Harry and Draco have settled in the Room of Requirement to celebrate Christmas their first year as Hogwarts professors. Things get quite steamy in front of the fireplace with a string of multicolored Christmas lights ;)

From Part 1...

The former Gryffindor took the Room’s Christmas present [a/n: a Santa-Snitch themed tie] and unwrapped it from his wrist. Then, very slowly he tied it around Draco’s eyes. The blond froze for a moment, shocked at the unexpected sensation around his eyes. But the sensation building in his trousers was a lot more distracting in that moment…

****

“Harry—”

“Shh…now did I give you permission to speak?” Harry smirked.

“No, _sir_ ,” Draco said, the word practically purring out of his mouth.

Draco Malfoy sat comfortably in front of the fireplace, his hair, now free and natural without any potions or painful spellwork. His blond locks fell slightly longer, as he’d let his hair grow out through the summer. A perfect juxtaposition to the Christmas tie around his eyes.

 _Now, if only I had_ … As if Harry’s wish were the Room’s command, a string of (magically lit) multicolored Christmas lights appeared on the table beside him.  
  
Harry frowned. _I was gonna say rope_ , but…  
  
“Everything…okay out there?” Draco asked, breathlessly.  
  
“Hmm?” Harry asked, sternly.  
  
“Um…I asked if everything was okay out there, sir.” Draco repeated respectfully.  
  
“Everything’s perfect. You do trust me, don’t you?”  
  
Draco nodded quickly and the long ends of the tie swayed back and forth with the bobbling of the former Slytherin’s head.  
  
“Good. Just relax…” Harry slowly began to trace his fingers along his lover’s face…his jawline….his neck…his collarbone. Draco shuddered.  
  
“I love how I can undo you with just a simple touch.” Harry smiled, though his partner could not see him, and Draco moaned in reply.  
  
Harry let out a soft chuckle as he turned his attention back to the Christmas lights. He tentatively held his hand out and traced the plastic wires and tiny light bulbs. Harry had never done something like this before…Well, at least with Christmas lights. He was intrigued, but first things first. Draco had to be completely naked, if Harry was going to make him into a beautiful Christmas tree.  
  
“Take off your trousers,” Harry ordered. “Leave your pants on. For now…” The other man quickly obeyed and struggled a little in his haste to unbutton and remove his trousers, while blindfolded. _Perfect._ Harry thought. _Exactly how I want you._  
  
“So eager…” Harry took his time observing Draco’s beautiful physique. Draco had always been slightly pale, a beautiful contrast to Harry’s darker complexion. The former Slytherin was lean, but fit, having turned his entire attention towards his mental and physical well-being after the war. His abs and, let’s be honest, most of his body were mouthwatering. His biceps…his thighs…his arse, which was currently hidden under those tight briefs… Harry knew he’d be seeing it very soon. But first…  
  
Harry rearranged to straddle himself over Draco’s bottom half, briefly making contact through his clothes with Draco’s ever-growing bulge under his briefs. His lover jumped at the unexpected touch, but Harry let himself splay his hands across the gorgeous chest in front of him.  
  
“Mm… yes, Harry, please…touch me…I want to feel you here with me.”  
  
“Oh, yes, my sweet prince.” Harry leant down and whispered in Draco’s ear in the way he knew completely undid the former Slytherin. “How much do you want me to touch you?”  
  
Draco mumbled incoherently.  
  
“I didn’t quite catch that?” Harry said, biting his lip to keep from laughing and pleased Draco was blindfolded and wouldn’t catch any breaks in his façade.  
  
Draco sighed loudly. “Please, _sir_ , I want you to touch me so much. I can’t take it anymore. I’m _dying_ here, can’t you see?”  
  
Harry looked Draco, watching goosebumps spread across his skin as his lover shook slightly from the cold, as well as his overpowering arousal.  
  
Responding to the beautiful begging utterances of his lover... Harry lifted his wand--and cast a wordless warming spell. As the magic made contact with Draco’s body, Harry saw his lover relax slightly.  
  
“Now.” Harry said firmly. “Better?”  
  
Draco grumbled, “Yes, sir.”  
  
“You don’t seem happy?”  
  
Draco let out a sigh that showed his complete and utter frustration. “For fuck's sake, Potter. I said stop teasing!”  
  
“Language,” Harry admonished Draco, and pinched his nipple sharply, causing the other to yelp.  
  
“Apologize.” Harry’s order rang out, loud and clear, and Draco did not hesitate. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry for my impatience.” The words came out in a desperate rush.  
  
“Good boy,” Harry said. He reached out to retrieve the Christmas lights the Room had thoughtfully provided for them.  
  
“Now, what are your safe words?”  
  
“Green for go. Yellow for caution. Red for stop.”  
  
"Very good. Or..." Harry conjured a little jingle bell and placed it in his lover's right hand, "drop this to stop."   
  
Draco wrapped his fingers around the bell securely and nodded.  
  
"You’re so good," Harry complimented. "I’d like to give you a present…”  
  
Draco smiled. “What sort of present, sir?”  
  
“Now, don’t get cocky,” Harry warned, raising an eyebrow at his blindfolded lover.  
  
Draco shook his head. “No, sir.”  
  
“Alright then. Enjoy.”  
  
Harry grabbed his wand to cast a sound reducing charm so Draco couldn’t use his other senses to deduce what Harry was about to do.  
  
He took the slightly tangled Christmas lights and found one end. Harry bit his lip, trying to determine what design would make Draco look the most radiant. Inspiration hit him and he got the rahter long, singular string of lights and prepared to bind his lover. It only took about 30 seconds, but Draco was antsy the whole time, and Harry could tell that it took all of his lover’s willpower to keep silent, stay patient.  
  
Draco jumped and shivered when the light strand first touched his bare chest and arms. It was obvious he had no idea what was happening—Harry figured the texture from a strand of Christmas lights must be throwing Draco's senses through a loop.  
  
Harry finished wrapping the lights around Draco’s arms and torso in a gorgeous pattern. Harry rested his hands on Draco’s neck and relished in the realization that the former Slytherin was completely at his mercy. Except…  
  
“Pants,” Harry said, and his voice was slightly raspy from having been so silent and focused on tying up his lover. He felt Draco shiver underneath his hands.  
  
“Do you…um…” Draco swallowed. “Shall I take them off, sir? Or do you want to?”  
  
“Hmm…neither,” Harry said, and he grabbed his wand, murmuring a banishing spell. The pants had completely vanished and Harry was staring at the magnificently erect cock of Draco Malfoy.  
  
A bit of precum already forming at the tip and threatening to drip down his shaft.  
  
Harry could not resist. Without warning, Harry descended on his cock.  
  
“Oh, fuuuuuckkk,” Draco moaned as Harry wrapped his hot, wet mouth around his erection. Harry groaned at the eroticism of the moment, living for the salty-sweet taste of his lover’s precum on his tongue.  
  
When Harry had licked all the precum away, he proceeded to continue decorating his Draco as a Christmas tree. Harry made sure to highlight one of his lover’s…most awe-inspiring features (that delicious cock) with delicate and precise twists and turns of the string of lights.  
  
Harry reached the end of the magically lit Christmas lights, and added the final touches to his masterpiece.   
  
Draco’s breathing was shallow, his nipples erect and his cock was seeping precum again.  
  
Harry stepped away from his lover’s body, quite aware that this would disorient him and sneakily put his lips to Draco’s ears. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”  
  
Draco jumped, obviously not expecting Harry to say anything, let alone so close to his ear. “Mmm…” Harry gave a low chuckle. Draco had such a praise kink. “Thank you, sir…” Draco was a little out of it, having sunken into a light subspace as Harry had been tying him up. Harry brushed his fingers lightly over Draco, tickling his left inner forearm where the faded dark mark was still ever-present. The other man squirmed and whined at the sensation. Harry ignored him, and continued to stroke Draco's skin with his fingertips, being sure to choose all those devlish spots he knew Draco found most ticklish. 

"Mmm...Harry...sir, please, that tickles." Draco continued to squirm at Harry's light touches.

"That's good..." Harry said, pleased the lights were tied securely but not too tightly around his lover.   
  
“Wish you could see how beautiful you--" Before Harry could finish the thought, a polaroid camera appeared where the Christmas lights had nearly half an hour ago.  
  
Harry tentatively lifted the camera.  
  
“May I take your picture?” Harry asked, “I mean, just for us?”  
  
Draco chuckled softly and sounding a little high he said, “This goddamn Room…Merlin…” he nodded. “Yes. Green.”  
  
Harry took a picture and the photo printed out automatically. He took a few more pictures from different angles, admiring his beautiful work of art. His Draco.  
  
“You’re such a good boy for letting me admire you,” Harry said.  
  
“Mmm..thank you sir…”  
  
“Are you ready for your reward?”  
  
Draco nodded fervently. “Yes. Yes, please. Sir.”  
  
Harry was also more than ready. He pulled off his own trousers and his erect cock sprung free. Once he’d removed all his clothing, Harry touched his lover’s leg… knee…. thigh… belly… collarbone…all the while moving himself closer and closer to Draco’s cock.  
  
Finally, he grabbed his wand and muttered a lubrication spell into his hand. A cool, clear liquid, sparkling with a bit of magic protectant appeared there and Harry wrapped this hand around his lover’s erection.  
  
Draco’s moans were the loudest yet, and Harry could tell he’d pushed him so close to coming already. He quickly stopped rubbing his partner’s shaft, climbed on top of Draco, and slid himself slowly and teasingly onto Draco’s cock.  
  
Draco let out a slew of expletives as he was finally allowed to have his cock inside Harry. Harry quickly placed a hand over his mouth, firmly but tenderly encouraging his lover to stay quiet and polite if he wanted to please him.  
  
Ever so slowly, Harry eased himself up and down Draco’s cock and was soon moaning and grunting, the intense feeling of Draco’s cock inside him had always fogged his mind and made him lose any coherent thoughts.  
  
“Will you—will you—” Draco panted.  
  
“Yes, love, what do you want?” Harry said, continuing to ease evenly up and down Draco’s shaft.  
  
“I want—could you please—choke me while I come? Sir?” Draco’s cheeks had flushed red as he asked the question, and Harry considered. Or at least he pretended to consider, tracing his fingers around his lover’s collarbone and neck.  
  
“Hmm…now I’m not sure I should. I don’t think you really want it,” Harry teased, hoping for Draco to take bait. He was not disappointed.  
  
“ _Please_ , Harry, _please_ choke me,” Draco pleaded.  
  
“I don’t know…” Harry trailed off as he pounded harder onto Draco’s cock.  
  
“Oh-merlin-Harry-will-you-please-just-put-your-hands-around-my-throat-and-choke-me?” Draco let out in a rush. He was obviously very close to coming, and Harry took pity on him—bringing his hands to the other man’s throat.  
  
Draco came first, thanking Harry in gasps as he came, Harry carefully judging his partner's pleasure and pain, alternating between lighter and harder pressure. A second or so after Draco's cum filled him up and started dripping back down over his own cock, Harry came with a guttural moan.  
  
Harry clutched Draco, both of them shaking from the intensities of their orgasms.  
  
Finally, Draco whispered, “Could you please get these off me, love? They’re starting to dig in uncomfortable places, and I need to rest.”  
  
“Of course, my sweet prince.” Harry banished the lights and Draco stretched, testing his freedom after being restrained. Harry made sure to kiss all the spots that looked particularly red and irritated from the unorthodox binding.  
  
Soon, Draco laid his head on Harry’s lap, a favorite position of his. He shivered and the Room provided a blanket, covering the both of them in the same moment as it appeared. Draco made himself comfortable, wrapping the blanket tightly and nuzzling closer to Harry, who smiled at the sight.  
  
Harry laughed and said softly, “Is my little ferret sleepy?” He slowly, dazily stroked Draco's hair.   
  
“Shut the fuck up, Potter...” Draco said groggily, stifling a yawn.  
  
“You can fall asleep like this,” Harry said. “I wouldn’t mind. Draco?”  
  
Harry glanced down and noticed his lover’s eyes were closed and his breathing was calm and rhythmic. Not wanting to disturb his peaceful slumber, Harry leant down to give his lover the softest of kisses in the middle of his forehead.  
  
 _But if I fall asleep in this position…_ Again, the Room responded immediately to his request, propping him up with pillows and blankets, making this spot in front of the fireplace really the most lovely and comfortable place to spend the night. With Draco. His Draco. The Room dimmed the candlelight to prepare for sleep.  
  
“Happy Christmas, my love,” Harry whispered into the quiet room, holding Draco tightly as he slipped off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Four complete! I had a great time writing this chapter--so much fun. Probably why it took so long for me to post it hahaha, so sorry about the delay. But enjoy, and I will be writing the prompt for Day 5 today!


	5. "Tell Me a Lie"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW and Tags: Dealing with intense unresolved psychological and mental health issues, panic attacks, anxiety, depression, working through intense trauma, Ginny P.O.V.. It's intense this one.
> 
> It's Christmas Eve. Harry has just returned home, and it soon becomes painfully clear that Harry's breaking up with her. And if it's for the reason she thinks it is, she doesn't want to know the truth. She'd rather he tell her a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 of of the 25 Days of Draco and Harry, inspired by Traditional Prompt #5 and "Tell Me a Lie" by One Direction. It is from Ginny's P.O.V.. Please read notes at the end of the story!

Ginny was rearranging the presents under their enormous evergreen Christmas tree standing in their living room. Her mother had made sure that all her kids had access to proper trees this year—working with Neville Longbottom to cultivate her own magical Christmas tree farm for the family in a previously unused corner of the Burrow property.   
  
A lumpy Christmas present caught Ginny's eye and she reached out to hold it. _It’s sweet_ , she thought. The gift was from her mother and she knew it was her new Christmas jumper. _Not only will we all get a homemade jumper every year, but a homegrown Christmas tree as well._  
  
She and her family had always cherished Christmas. It was such a magical time—and not only just because of its sheer beauty, aesthetic, and joy. Ginny had always felt her _own_ magic was particularly strong during the Advent season. As a child, she used to feel her natural, untrained magic sizzling whenever the temperature finally dropped for good and winter had arrived. Even now, as she listened to the fire crackling in the fireplace, she inhaled the scent of freshly baked gingerbread cookies on the plate next to her, and took in the magnificence of Mum's first homegrown tree. It was clear to Ginny that her magic was in a heightened state this evening, boosted by all the magic of the festive season.

Ginny looked at the tree again and recalled how particularly special this tree was to Ginny and her mother because it was the actual first one, as in, the first of the six Mum had chopped down. Ginny had to grin and let out a laugh. The mental image of her mother swinging an axe and hacking away at her Christmas trees was ridiculous. In fact, Mum had deftly taken her wan and with a masterful swipe had sliced the tree at the perfect height to encourage new magical growth. 

Hearing her own laughter echo in the empty, dreary living room of Grimmauld Place caused Ginny to stop abruptly. She looked back at the tree, with its twinkling lights and magnificent ornamentation, in sudden realization. 

Ginny realized that, for the last couple minutes at least, she’d been able to forget. Forget that things were not as perfect as the memories of her childhood Christmases.

For one, she was alone. Harry wasn’t even home yet. _Where was he_? But like every other night this week, she had no clue. Ginny sighed and picked up her plate of cookies, making her way back to the off-putting, gothic, antique sofa left over from Sirius’ family.

She wrapped herself in a fluffy blanket which her mother had helped her knit at the beginning of December. It had a Quaffle and three gold hoops knitted with the softest fabric Ginny had ever felt. It helped, of course, that her mother was quite gifted at domestic charms and had shown her a couple of family tricks. Ginny pressed her fingers lightly to the Quaffle, perfectly imperfect in her first ever knitted piece. She felt a sense of calm in her next breath as she concentrated only on the fibers softly tickling her fingertips.

Ginny leant back against one of the two early Christmas presents she’d received from her mom: a pillow with fancy script and the words: “Wake me up when winter ends.” The second pillow was on the other side of the sofa and simply said: “Brrrrrrrrrrrr.” Ginny remembered her mother gifting her the pillows on the Solstice. Mum had hinted that she’d done some tricky charmwork on the thread as she’d sewn so the pillows would give off a soft magical pulse of calm.

However, she was jarred by the sudden soft mechanical whirring of her and Harry’s family clock. The hand with Harry’s face on it had moved to “travel,” and Ginny knew he’d be arriving by Floo any moment.

Indeed, a couple of seconds later, the fire turned emerald green and signaled Harry’s return.

Ginny sensed the wards around Grimmauld Place respond to Harry’s magical signature and allow him entry.

Her boyfriend of two years stepped out of the hearth and used his wand to magic away the leftover soot and Floo powder.

“Good evening, Gin,” Harry said. He gave her a smile. Ginny forced her own smile back, biting her tongue, for she knew if she were to speak, she’d demand to know where he’d been, and they’d end up fighting on Christmas Eve.

Harry sat down next to Ginny and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head.

Ginny tried to relax into his arms, but she couldn’t help noticing that…he really didn’t smell like himself. She stiffened, and Harry, sensing her shift in comfort, released her, and placed his hands in hers.

“Is everything okay?” Harry asked her.

It was evident from Harry’s tone that he knew perfectly well that everything was not okay. He knew that something was wrong. And that there was something wrong with them.

“No, Harry,” Ginny said, and she extracted her hands from his, before scooching away from him towards one end of the sofa.

Harry mirrored her movements and moved away from her as well, turning his gaze towards the Christmas tree. He hadn’t seen it in all it’s glory yet.

 _He’s barely been home_ , Ginny thought bitterly, but she bit her tongue again. If they were going to have this conversation, and if they were going to have this conversation on Christmas Eve, it was going to be done as tactfully as possible. Ginny hoped. _Fuck._ “I won’t ever get this right, will I?”

Ginny blinked. It hadn’t been she who had spoken. It was Harry. He was still looking at the tree, the Christmas lights reflecting in his glasses.

“You won’t ever get…this right…” Ginny repeated, trailing off. “You mean…us?”

Harry nodded.

“I’ve really tried, Gin. I have. But. I can’t make it work. I can’t…I don’t…”

Ginny nodded slowly as the words traveled across the length of the sofa, twisted into her ears, and the meaning behind them dawned upon her.

“You don’t love me,” Ginny stated. They both knew it was a statement, not a question.

“I care about you. So deeply.”

And Ginny knew that. She felt it with all her heart. Ginny knew she felt the same for him. But that didn’t make the pain of her potential life with the “love of her life” breaking down and dismantling before her very eyes.

In fact, it felt as if her soul had splintered open, and there were miniscule cuts everywhere, inside and outside her body. Ginny felt her magic burst forth like a wave from the sea and crash over her. The sheer amount of magic and pain she felt coursing through her veins was intolerable and she began to cry.

At the first sound of a sob, Harry turned towards her. He held out a hand and rested it on the blanket still covering Ginny’s legs. Ginny gratefully brought her own hand to rest in it as she sobbed.

When she could let out a few words she said, “I fought so hard for this. For _us_. I know you did, too.” She let out another howl of pain as her magic swam about inside her and mixed with all the fear, anxiety, anger, resentment, and regret. She very clearly could feel and differentiate the emotions spinning and intermingling with her magic, when from the outside she felt Harry gently press her hand.

She found some words and blurted them out in between sobs, probably partially unintelligible to Harry, but it didn’t matter. “I know we didn’t mean to hurt each other. But this fucking hurts, Harry. It cuts. Like knives, everywhere, all over my body. And I’m just so…tired. I’m so tired.” A new round of sobs, and Ginny felt herself go dizzy, so she lay her head down on Harry’s chest and the man stroked her hair. He’d always been so tender with her whenever she’d cried.

After several minutes, Ginny was able to breathe more freely. She grabbed her wand from the table next to the sofa and cast a gentle nasal clearing spell. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs. She expelled the breath.

She realized Harry was present with her. Ready for anything she wanted to say or didn’t want to say. She said it. “Why?”

Ginny saw Harry attempt to make eye contact with her, but she could tell he had chosen one of her freckles somewhere on her bottom left cheek.

“I didn’t mean to. I can’t help but feel like—” Harry trailed off. “I miss…Gin, I miss him—”

“No!” Ginny cut him off sharply. She realized with a start that she was looking down at Harry. When had she stood up?

“S-sorry?” Harry asked.

“No,” Ginny repeated firmly, finally starting to wrap her thoughts and feelings around what Harry was truly confessing to her.

“O…kay,” Harry said, his confusion blatant on his face.

“Tell me…” Ginny trailed off and started pacing the room, trying to get her thoughts in order and out of her mouth in a way that would make sense. “Tell me…I’m a screwed-up mess.”

Harry let out a choking sound. “Excuse me?”

“Or…or that I never listen,” Ginny continued as if Harry had said nothing.

“Tell me you don’t like kissing me, or something juvenile like that. Or—or that you…need your distance! I’ve dealt with that one before… I could do it again.”

“But Gin, that’s not true—”

“No, Harry!” Ginny stopped in front of Harry, directly between him and the Christmas tree.

“Tell me anything. _Any_ thing. But don’t you _dare_ tell me it’s _him_ you’re missing!” Ginny’s knees gave out, her magic completely drained, sucked out of every pore of her body.

“I just couldn’t bear it.” This time Harry fell to the floor next to her and squeezed her hand tightly. But he also buried his face in his other arm, hiding his face from her. Ginny sensed the dark shadows of shame and disgrace radiating off Harry, mixed with his own spiraling magic, reaching into every inch of that dreary, old, decrepit room.

Between sobs, Ginny got out her final words, “If he’s the reason you’re leaving me, Harry... If you’re really leaving me for Draco fucking Malfoy, just…please,” she begged him. “ _Please_. Just. Tell me a lie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. First of all, yes, this fic was indeed inspired by One Direction's "Tell me a Lie" if that wasn't painfully clear to some of you bahahahaha. And yes, I was listening to the song on repeat as I wrote this piece LOL. And yes, this is Day 5 of the 25 Days of Draco and Harry and it is written from……….. Ginny Weasley's point of view. 
> 
> WHAT HAPPENEND? You migtht be asking. I honestly don't know. I’m asking myself the same thing. But I've had this idea swirling in my head and I really wanted to write this story.
> 
> I love Drarry, you all know this. They're my OTP. And I know that there are a lot of people who hate Ginny. First of all, I validate those of you who have these experiences with and opinions about this character--I also occasionally enjoy a good fanfic that may be "Ginny Bashing." But I also want to think about this, as if it were a relationship outside of Fiction--what would have happened? If Draco and Harry are meant to be together (as I believe, they are, as we've established, LIFE, and my OTP heehee <3) what would have happened to Ginny who thought they were going to get together when the war was over and Voldemort was gone? 
> 
> The amount of betrayal and anger...it affects her mental health and her control of her own magic. This story was just begging for me to tell it, so I hope people will forgive me that, athough this is for my Drarry Drabble collection, this one is all about GINNY.


	6. An Unexpected Christmas Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Tags/Warnings** Fluff, very brief mentions of childhood trauma/abuse.
> 
> **Summary**
> 
> It’s the beginning of December, and Harry’s sneaked downstairs to peek at the presents. When Draco catches him, he reveals to Harry a most unexpected Christmas gift.

(Picture of: A Christmas Nutcracker/Toy Soldier)

“What the bloody hell…” Harry was sitting in the living room at Grimmauld Place, having just unwrapped the present. It was only December 6th, but Harry had snuck downstairs, leaving Draco asleep upstairs so he could sneak a peek under the tree. He was in a bit of a rush, as Draco would wake soon and come looking for him.

It was, without a doubt, the strangest gift he had ever received. And he had received some very weird Christmas presents over the years—a fifty-cent piece, a toothpick, and a single tissue from the Dursleys, to name a few. Oh, and of course Dobby the House Elf had painted a portrait of Harry when he was 15. Although he’d found it weird at the time and hadn’t appreciated its uniqueness, Harry had grown immensely fond of it over the years and it was currently hanging in the upstairs bathroom. Maybe…he’d feel that way about this gift in a few years?

Harry squinted and lifted the object closer to his face to better…appreciate… Draco’s present.

It was a Christmas Nutcracker. This had to be the cheesiest thing he had ever been gifted—which surprised him, given Dobby’s portrait.

 _Why the hell…_ Harry thought, and then he paused. _Hmm._ This was from Draco after all. The prat must have had some specific reason for this gift. He remembered when they first started dating, Draco had mentioned that gift-giving at Christmas was a serious business amongst the Malfoys. Even though Harry didn’t have that same connection with the holiday, he loved Draco, and his passion and love for Christmas made him love the man even more. And Harry didn’t want to mess this up by misinterpreting and accidentally letting slip to his boyfriend that he found Nutcrackers kind of…creepy.

“Harry?” said a voice from behind him.

Harry jumped and almost dropped the doll, but he quickly got a hold of himself when he realized it was just Draco who had entered the room. He turned, trying to hide the present as he did so.

It looked as though his boyfriend had just woken up, having had a Sunday lie-in. His hair was sticking up in the back, like Harry’s often did, and he had to smile. But his smile quickly faltered when he noticed Draco looking at the wrapping paper on the couch. He raised an eyebrow in Harry’s direction.

“What have you been up to?” Draco chastised, and Harry heard a hint of disappointment in his lover’s voice.

“Um…” Harry thought about what he could say. He landed on the truth. “Okay,” Harry sighed. “You caught me. I…was having a peek at the presents. I was going to seal them back up later.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open. “What are you, five?” Draco glared at Harry, and though it was the same glare Harry had been seeing since Hogwarts, it still irritated him. He glared back.

“No, actually. I never had Christmas gifts when I was five,” Harry said.

Draco’s eyes softened and he immediately looked contrite.

“I’m sorry I said that.” 

Harry’s irritation quickly subsided. “I’m sorry I tried to guilt-trip you. I just…was a little embarrassed, I guess. At being caught.”

“What…um…which present did you choose to peek at?” Draco asked, and Harry was shocked to hear a bit of worry in his voice.

He scooched over to make room for his boyfriend on the couch, and Draco joined him. Harry took a deep breath and revealed the Nutcracker from under his back.

Harry saw something flicker in Draco’s eyes. “What?” he asked, before the former Slytherin could deny the crack he’d revealed in his façade.

Draco sighed. “That one. You chose that one.”

“Why? Is it…?” Harry took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s the deal. I have no idea what this present means. And the last couple years, I was always so embarrassed about not understanding the meaning behind your presents.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Harry…you’re not serious?”

Harry felt his cheeks start to warm. “I am,” he confessed. Harry placed the Nutcracker on the table, facing them. Instead of looking at Draco, he looked into the Nutcracker’s eyes and explained, “I know how important Christmas is to you, and how seriously you and your family have always taken gift-giving. I just… wanted to be prepared and give you the appreciation you deserve after putting so much thought into your gifts for me.”

Draco didn’t say anything in response. Finally, he said, “Harry?”

Harry turned to look at him, and Draco immediately put his arms around him, pulling him into a tight and tender embrace.

“I love you so much,” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear.

“I love you, Draco,” Harry replied, and the two pulled away slightly to give each other a soft peck on the lips.

“Well…I have a confession, too,” Draco said.

Harry’s eyebrows nearly jumped off his face. “Seriously? Were you coming down here to sneak peeks too?”

Draco chuckled. “A Malfoy would never. Actually, I have to confess that you chose the gift I was planning on giving you last.”

Harry’s heart sank. “I’m so sorry. That sounds like it was important.”

“It was,” Draco said. “ _Is_!” he corrected. “It’s the most important gift I’ve ever picked out for someone.”

Harry was starting to feel more uncomfortable the more Draco explained. “I’m really sorry I opened it early. I fucked up.”

“No, no, that’s not what I’m trying to say! Sorry, love, I’m a little nervous.”

 _Nervous?_ Harry tilted his head in question.

“Well…I see you haven’t finished opening it,” Draco said.

Harry looked at the wrapping paper on the floor and the Nutcracker standing on the table.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Did you open it?” Draco asked, his voice low and shaky. Harry squeezed his lover’s hand, not sure why he was so nervous about this particular gift.

“Do you want me to open it now?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded slowly. “Yeah. Why not? Actually…” Draco reached out towards the Nutcracker and then presented it to Harry. He was holding it so securely, Harry knew Draco didn’t expect him to take the Nutcracker from him, but rather watch.

Draco’s hand was shaky as he lifted a finger and pressed the little wooden lever at the back to open the Nutcracker’s mouth.

As its mouth fell open, so did Harry’s.

Inside the mouth of the nutcracker was a beautiful silver ring. The band had a flawless brushed finish and a small round emerald twinkled up at Harry.

“Well?”

Harry finally looked back from the ring and met Draco’s eyes, which were unmistakably starting to glisten. Seeing this, Harry felt himself choke up, and swallowed hard as his gaze fell back to the beautiful engagement ring.

“Are you…” Harry trailed off.

“I am.” Draco nodded. He took a deep breath, and his hands shook a little as they still presented the Nutcracker and the ring. “Harry James Potter…” He began, and at those three words, Harry felt the tears start to fall from his own eyes.

“I was going to wait until Christmas. As you can tell...” Draco let out a soft chuckle.

“But…I guess I don’t want to wait anymore. Harry. I want you to be my husband.”

Harry was trying his hardest to stay in the moment with Draco, but his head was spinning His heart raced, and he couldn’t see, his eyes blurred by his own tears.

Draco placed the Nutcracker gently on the table, as not to jostle the ring, and wrapped Harry in another hug.

Harry felt Draco’s chest vibrate as he said, “I do hope these are tears of joy.”

Harry gave a small laugh then a slightly undignified sniff as he pulled away from Draco.

“Yes. Yes, of course they are,” Harry reassured, and leaned in to kiss him. Of course. Of course, he knew his answer. As he pulled away from his lover and their eyes locked, he knew Draco knew, too.

“I will.” Harry’s voice cracked and he laughed at himself before clearing his throat and repeating, “I will, Draco. Of course, I will marry you. I want to be your husband.”

Draco’s smile stretched from ear to ear, his own cheeks shimmering with tears as he retrieved the engagement ring from the Nutcracker.

Harry held out his left hand, and his fiancé— _woah, that sounded weird in his head—_ placed the emerald ring on his finger.

“It’s…it’s…” Harry couldn’t find the air to finish his sentence, and simply laced his fingers in between Draco’s and squeezed, his eyes glued to his ring.

“I’m glad you like it,” Draco whispered.

“I love it,” Harry managed to whisper back, and snuggled into Draco’s chest. Draco placed his arms around Harry and held him close.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you,” Draco said, his voice, for the first time, unwavering.

“Forever,” Harry repeated. “Well, I do have nothing better to do, I suppose…”

“Oh, Potter…” Harry could sense Draco rolling his eyes, but the arms around him tightened slightly, and he felt a kiss on the top of his head. Harry looked back at the Nutcracker, standing on the table, it’s mouth slightly ajar. _I guess it’s not so creepy after all_ , he thought.

Draco sighed happily and the two sunk deeper into the couch. They definitely had no plans to get up any time soon. _Besides, there’s no rush_ , Harry thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: It’s day 6! I hope you found this Drabble just as magical as I did ^_^ And I now have two wonderful Betas who have not only gone back to edit my already published chapters, but plan to help me throughout the month of December. Thank you, Vukovich and crazybutgood for your notes and feedback that will really bring my Drabble collection to the next level <3 
> 
> Check them out here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vukovich/ and https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazybutgood


	7. It Was Like...Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: When the wards of Grimmauld Place are triggered one evening in December, Harry is shocked to see it is Draco Malfoy. They have been building their friendship over the past year since Harry’s break-up with Ginny, but he has never been to Harry’s home before--despite numerous invitations. What could be so urgent and making him so nervous that he has to show up now, uninvited at ten past ten on a Monday evening?
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Fluffy Angst with Happy Ending, Deep Magical Connection which is personified because I LOVE MAGIC <3

(Kreacher looking out the window of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.)

**  
  
Harry’s P.O.V.**

Harry felt the magical wards protecting Grimmauld Place trigger and he froze. He hadn’t been expecting anyone so late. Who did he know who would call on him so late? _Could be Ron or Hermione,_ Harry thought. _Hopefully there’s nothing wrong…_

“Kreacher!” Harry called out and the house elf appeared instantly at the foot of his bed.

“Yes, Master?” He sounded exhausted and a little put out. Harry couldn’t help but smile at his curmudgeonly old house elf, who, despite everything, had really turned around and become a generous and loyal help around the house. Harry no longer viewed him as a “servant,” despite the fact that Kreacher still refused to accept a wage. He suspected that the elf deftly replaced any Galleons Harry left secretively in his room back into Harry’s own home vault.

“Would you please check the wards with me? I think someone’s trying to get in. It might be Ron or Hermione.”

“Of course, Master.” The Elf grumbled a little under his breath as they made their way downstairs and to the front door, but Harry knew it was just an act. Kreacher had perfected it over the years, and would have berated Harry strongly if he hadn’t have called on him to help check the wards.

When they arrived in the entry hall, Kreacher stood at the window and gazed out. His eyes searched the cold, dark winter night for the person, or people, who had triggered the wards at 10 past 10 on a Monday evening.

“Master…” Kreacher trailed off.

“Yes?” Harry brought the corner of his thumbnail to his mouth, biting it nervously. “Who is it?”

“It’s…the young Malfoy boy.”

“Draco? Draco’s here?” Harry asked. Though their friendship had grown immensely over the past couple months, Draco had never actually taken him up on any of his invitations to come to Grimmauld Place.

“Yes, sir.” Kreacher nodded. “Shall I let him in?”

“Please do.” Harry felt the wards shudder around him as they dropped briefly to let Draco step over the invisible barrier outside. A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door.

Harry opened the door and there stood Draco. _Fuck, in all his glory,_ Harry thought. His blond hair had grown out a little, something the former Slytherin would never have allowed at Hogwarts. Draco took a hand and brushed the hair out of his eyes. The moment was so fluid and flawless…Harry found himself at a loss of words. He couldn’t even ask him what the hell he was doing there.

“Hi. Harry,” Draco said, voice slightly shaky and Harry could sense something was amiss as soon as Draco greeted him.

“I apologize for the late hour. I had something…urgent to speak with you about and it couldn’t wait.”

Harry cleared his throat and found his voice. “No, no, it’s fine. Please, come in. We can sit in the living room and I can make us some tea.”

“Kreacher shall make the tea, Master.” Kreacher frowned at Harry. “You and your guest should go relax in the den.”

“Kreacher, please, it’s no problem—” but the elf had already disapparated with a _pop_ \-- probably towards the kitchen.

“I’m sorry to say that...” Harry cleared his throat again, “...tea is not one of Kreacher’s strong points.”

Harry helped his guest out of his jacket and his hands shook as they brushed against Draco’s back but the blond didn’t seem to notice a thing.

“It’s no problem, really,” Draco said, his voice soft and low, the urgency in his voice having dissipated slightly. Harry could tell Draco was beyond nervous to be there, with Harry, in Grimmauld Place.

Harry led them quickly to the sitting room. He sat in his favorite chair, one of the only Black antiques he’d kept after having it quadruple-checked for any Dark curses, and gestured for Draco to sit wherever he felt most comfortable. The other man chose the corner of a couch directly next to Harry.

Before either of them could say another word, Kreacher arrived with the tea.

Kreacher sighed melodramatically and placed the tea on the couch table in front of them.

“Enjoy, Master. Mr. Malfoy.” 

“Thank you, Kreacher.” Harry smiled, trying to hold back a laugh, but all Kreacher did was grumble about heading back to bed.

“Sleep well!” Harry called after him, and Kreacher gave a groan of acknowledgement.

He turned towards his guest. Draco was handling his cup of tea with curiosity and concern.

Harry smiled, “I mean, it’s not poisoned, obviously, but…” he took a sip of his own tea and grimaced. “It tastes like Kreacher made it. And he hates tea.”

Draco smiled, but slowly; his nervousness not yet subsided.

Harry placed his own mug back on the table. “Why are you here, Draco?” Harry asked. He made sure to sound as open and non-judgemental as possible, trying to put the other man at ease.

Draco opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“Hey…” Harry said, and to his surprise, he saw himself reach out and place his hand on Draco’s forearm. It felt comfortable though, as their friendship had brought them closer, and they’d even started to be more free with their affection towards each other. They had shared some hugs, some shoulder claps, and squeezes. And though this felt more intimate, it did feel like a natural progression, and neither man seemed to feel the desire to pull away.

“I’m here. You can tell me anything.” Harry squinted, “Everything is okay, isn’t it? You’re not…no one’s hurt or in—in trouble are they?”

“Oh, no,” Draco reassured. “It’s nothing like that. I just…am trying to get my thoughts together.”

Harry nodded. “Take all the time you need. We’ve got all night. What else am I going to do but drink this…drink.” He really couldn’t bear to call... _this_...tea. But he appreciated Kreacher for trying, nonetheless.

“Harry…”

At the sound of his name, Harry looked up from his mug and met Draco’s eyes. And for a moment, it really felt like Draco was trying to read into his soul. He felt exposed and anxious, but forced himself to keep eye contact. He saw Draco initiate a breath and followed suit. As they both exhaled in a deep sigh, Harry felt him relax into their mutual gaze. And, before he could help himself, he was also trying to read into the other man’s soul.

“I know we’re both wizards,” Draco finally began, his gaze unfaltering. “But you need to stop living in this fantasy land.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he let out an involuntary scoff. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry. I don’t mean it that way. Just…please hear me out?”

Harry heaved a sigh. “Fine. But Draco, don’t be a prat.”

“I’ll try my hardest,” Draco bit his lip, trying to hold in a laugh, “but you know me.”

Despite himself, Harry grinned. _Fucking prat,_ he thought.

“What I’m trying to say is—I know you’re still torn up about it not working out with Ginny...”

At the mention of his ex’s name, Harry’s eyes widened. He honestly hadn’t thought about her for months.

“You’ve locked yourself up in this house, haven’t been on any dates whatsoever, and it’s been nearly a year. Besides me, you hardly see anyone anymore. I know you hung out with Ron and Hermione last weekend, but...you’ve only really been spending time with them once or twice a month ever since the break-up. She’s not coming back, Harry. Ginny’s not going to make you happy.”

Harry honestly couldn’t believe his ears _._ He shook his head in disbelief. “Draco, are you done?”

Draco narrowed his eyes.

Harry ignored that. “Good. Hold on a minute.”

He stood up, leaving Draco alone in the den with only the ticking of the grandfather clock for company. Harry sprinted up the stairs to his bedroom and retrieved a box from the floorboards under his bed. _Old habits die hard._ He held the box in his hand and grinned to himself before standing up again and returning to Draco.

The other man had not moved from his spot, but he was sniffing his tea with disdain.

Harry couldn’t help bursting out laughing. “You don’t have to drink it.”

“It’s impolite to refuse tea when your host has offered it,” Draco said. He sounded a lot like Hermione, as if he were reciting a page from a textbook all about proper etiquette and manners.

“Here,” Harry said and placed the box in his hands.

**

**Draco’s P.O.V.:**

“What’s this?”

“Just open it.”

“It’s locked.”

“Are you a wizard, or aren’t you?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You’re not telling me you’ve put a first-year level locking spell on this thing.” He pulled out his wand and murmured, “Alohomora.” The box clicked. _Fucking Gryffindors,_ Draco thought as his hands lifted the lid of the box. Inside he found... a stack of parchment. All clearly letters. And all addressed to…Draco.

Draco blinked once. Twice. Then his face screwed up, his eyes narrowed, and his eyebrows knitted together as he scanned the first page:

: _…I don’t know how I’m going to be able to tell you…I had to tell Ginny, it was too unfair…I’m so sorry for the hurt I’ve caused…Draco….so beautiful…talented…confident…and goddamn that swagger… Draco…Though you may never read this, I love you…and you’ve never been able to see…_

Draco’s eyes softened. He swallowed. His lips curled into the smallest of smiles and he sighed softly. _He’d been off._ Way off. He felt his throat start to close. The tears started to form, but were not ready to fall.

Finally, he looked up at Harry, who was smiling. “So what do you think’s going to make me happy, Draco?” He reached out and held Draco’s arm again.

Draco couldn’t respond, so Harry continued.

“It’s you, Draco. This whole time…it’s always been you. I mean, of course, I knew I felt something for you when we were at Hogwarts, but...haven’t you wondered why ever since Ginny and I broke up, I’m always asking to hang out with you? No one else? You kept trying to encourage me to see Ron and Hermione or set up dates with other wixen or muggles…but this year…I haven’t wanted to be around anyone else as much as you. Or as often.” He paused, took a breath, and exhaled slowly. “It’s you, Draco. It’s always been you.”

Draco smiled and the tears finally flowed . With nothing left to hold him back, Draco leaned forward and pressed his lips to Harry’s. Draco felt his magic instantly burst forth towards the other man, and its sparks, along with those that must belong to Harry, flow back and forth between and within them both. 

He couldn’t believe it had taken them so long to do something that felt so natural, as if their very magic had been crying out for each other for years and now they had finally connected. Draco licked Harry’s upper lip ever so softly, encouraging the other man to open up. Their tongues brushed against each other for the first time, and it was like coming home. No home Draco had ever known. It was like a million tiny things were finally coming into place and it was clear now, that they were meant to be together. 

It was like…magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Day 7 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry is a wrap! I honestly was a bit worried going into this today, not sure how inspiration would hit me, or if my low energy and anxiety would make it difficult to create something of substance today. But I am really pleased with how it turned out! Inspired by the Day 7 prompt of the challenge, but also “Isn’t it Romantic?” with Rebel Wilson and “Sleepless in Seattle” with that famous quote spoken by Tom Hanks: “It was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together, and I knew it. I knew it the first time I touched her. It was like coming home, only to no home I’d ever known….It was like magic.”


	8. Silver Devil in a Blue Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Draco and Harry have become close friends since the end of the War and Draco’s trial. They’re now neighbors in Diagon Alley, and Draco has a predicament...he’s falling for Harry. Hard. And the other man seems as straight as straight can be--Draco suspects he must flirt with every girl he’s ever met at the Silver Stag Society.
> 
> The Silver Stag is hosting a Yule Ball and Draco, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all been planning to go as a group--that is, until Draco comes up with his secret plan to seduce Harry Potter...even if only for one night. In the process, he learns a lot more about himself than he thought he would. 
> 
> Tags/warnings: gender fluidity, gender discovery, polyjuice potion, trans/gender fluid Draco, mentions of gender dysphoria and euphoria.

*

_ Okay. Oh, shit. I’ve actually done it. This is it. _

Draco took a huge breath and ran his fingers through his silver-blond hair, briefly catching a tangle near his shoulders.

He looked at himself in his bathroom mirror—and looking back at him was Daniela, the muggle girl he’d snuck some hairs from the other night. Draco allowed himself a second to praise himself for having brewed a masterful batch of Polyjuice potion before trying out a smile.

The effect was instantaneous—his lips curved upwards and the beauty of it on such a feminine face caught him pleasantly by surprise, and the grin quickly extended, reaching Daniela’s blue eyes.

Draco felt…amazing. Gorgeous. He’d never felt this way before. And now maybe, just maybe, Harry would finally see him.

The two of them had built a solid friendship over the past couple years since the War and Draco’s trial. What started out as casual and fun conversations over tea once or twice a month became a weekly and sometimes daily occurrence, depending on the workloads of the two men.

After around six months of this, the two of them discovered they had each been planning on moving out of their family houses (Draco out of Malfoy Manor, Harry out of Grimmauld Place) in favor of purchasing flats in Diagon Alley. Both figured it would be nice to live near a friend, and decided on two flats in the same building near  Florean Fortescue's  Ice Cream Parlour—a place for which Harry seemed to have a particular fondness.

After becoming neighbors, they hung out almost daily—they’d even added each other's magical signatures to their individual protection wards so they could simply knock and enter either man’s place whenever they wished.

Yes, Draco and Harry were now probably as close of mates as Harry, Weasley, and Granger. Draco had even gotten used to seeing the other two members of the Golden Trio every Friday night for dinner and drinks at the Silver Stag. Sometimes, Draco felt as though he were really starting to fit in with the group. They had been immensely accepting of his friendship with Harry, and had supported his choice to defend Draco at his trial.

Everything seemed to be going great—except one thing: Draco was falling for Harry. Hard. And he knew Harry wasn’t interested in men by the way he flirted with  _ any _ witch that gave him the  _ slightest _ bit of attention.

This had proven to be a pretty serious predicament for Draco. He and Harry had so much in common, and they cared about each other immensely—but Draco couldn’t imagine Harry ever looking at someone like Draco, some  _ guy _ like Draco, and ever feeling the same way.

Draco had been simmering on tonight’s plan since they’d purchased the flats, since they’d started going to the Silver Stag every Friday and he had to watch Harry flirt with every girl in the room.

When he first found himself circling fluxweed, knotgrass, and lacewing flies from his  _ WixPot _ Potions catalogue, he knew there were so many things that could go wrong. First of all, what if Harry knew it was him? He could pretend to be sick…but what if Harry caught Draco as he was transforming? Or what if he, Weasley, and Granger guessed what he was drinking out of his flask all night? How would he find someone to Polyjuice into whom none of them had ever met, who wouldn’t blow his cover?

The last point was more easily solved than Draco had thought. He’d simply used the muggle app “Tinder” and swiped right on every girl he thought Harry might be interested in. The person who seemed most keen to meet him had been Daniela, a stunning blonde with piercing blue eyes. Her hair was wavy and went past her shoulders, her skin looked delicate and soft, and she held herself so confidently. The outfit in her profile picture hinted at some cleavage that made Draco’s heart race. What would Harry think? But also…what would Draco think if he were to grow--

Draco had stopped himself from thinking about that and quickly made plans to meet her.  They had gotten along great, flirted a lot, and even had a snog (still fun, though not particularly arousing for Draco). At the end of the evening, he had deftly taken a few strands of hair while Daniela was distractedly snogging the life out of him on his couch. She had been incredibly nice, and he’d thoroughly enjoyed his time with her. He thanked her for the evening, but let her know he wasn’t looking for anything serious right now. Daniela took it with grace; she had also just been looking for a quick hook-up.

Now, as Draco stood in front of the mirror, he couldn’t help but notice the significant changes to his physical body.

He was still quite skinny, but his hips had transformed, and he now had a gentler hourglass figure. Draco was wearing a short royal blue cocktail dress he’d anonymously owl-ordered from Madam Malkin’s. Her robes had never failed him in the past, but he’d always secretly admired the gorgeous evening wear for witches.This particular garment was made of the Madam’s finest chiffon and had an illusion scoop bodice. The fully-beaded sheer strap was bedecked with white crystals and opal-colored rhinestones. Draco’s waistband was also strewn with the jewels which came together in a triangle shape just above his belly button.

Now, as Draco took in his appearance, his ample bosom pressing against the magnificent dress, his arse perfectly framed, he felt his heart constrict. He liked this. In fact, he loved it. Standing there in his bathroom that evening, something shifted inside of Draco, and he released a soft: “Oh.”

But he didn’t have time to consider these bubbling emotions for too long.

He took a deep breath and applied a quick make-up charm that any first-year could master. Draco didn’t want to waste any precious time, as he only had enough Polyjuice to get him through three hours.

Everything was ready. Harry, Weasley, and Granger thought he was home sick with a cold—they knew how sensitive Draco was to the winter weather— and Draco knew the three of them would just be arriving at the Silver Stag.

Draco took in his reflection one last time. He put his left arm on his hip, trying out Daniela’s pose from her photo. The first thing he noticed was the faded dark mark on his forearm had vanished. Of course it had. Draco had been so preoccupied with admiring the other parts of his transformation he hadn’t noticed. He looked at Daniela in the mirror again, peering into her eyes. He wasn’t sure if he could see any of Draco in there anymore, and the thought made him a little sad. Maybe he could try this again later. Give himself some time to actually discover and explore different parts of this body. With a sinking feeling, he realized that he couldn’t do that. This wasn’t his body. It wouldn’t be right. Maybe there was another way he could...but he had no time to consider that right now. What he needed to do was see--just see-- if he could seduce Harry Potter. And be with him, even for just one night.

He strapped on his glittery silver heels which had two straps: one at the top of his toes and the other wrapping around his upper heel. They were still quite short, the heels more platform than stiletto, but Draco felt...sexy, truly sexy, for what was probably the first time in his life.    
  
Draco turned on his heel as he disapparated and reappeared at the back of the queue for the Silver Stag. There weren’t too many folks in line, and Draco saw Harry, Weasley, and Granger at the front, getting scanned by the security wixen.   
  
As Harry and the other two passed through the door beneath a magical Silver Stag head, Draco noticed it had been lit up for Yule, with twinkling fairy lights expertly twisted about the antlers and down its body.   
  
“You’ve got this, Draco,” he said quietly to himself. His voice was still his own. He cleared his throat and tried to tap into the softer, more feminine pitch he’d been practicing. “You’ve got this…Dragana.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 8 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry! I am already in the process of fleshing out a very long fic with this trans/genderfluid Draco-- I don't know why I haven't done it before xD I hope you enjoyed!


	9. Silver Devil in a Blue Dress Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is feeling down that his friend Draco can’t make it to the Silver Stag’s Yule Ball. But from the moment the beautiful Dragana walks over to him, he’s enraptured by her confidence and radiant beauty and he soon forgets there’s anyone else at all..
> 
> **Tags/Warnings**: trans/genderfluid Draco (chosen name: Dragana), gender euphoria, magic personified, fluff and pg-13 hints at something smutty to come ;)

“Will you stop sulking, mate?” Ron paused to take a cool sip of his Firewhisky. “I know it sucks the ferret’s not here, but  _ we  _ are, you know?”

Harry’s focus was on his own Firewhisky as he swirled it in his hand, watching the amber liquid swoop up and down the edges of the glass. He heaved a sigh at his mate’s words and looked up at Ron and Hermione. “I know, I know. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Harry.” Hermione placed her hand on Harry’s which was still gripped around the tumbler. 

“Plus,” Hermione winked, “I think I know something that might cheer you up…”

Harry raised his eyebrows and Hermione giggled.

“Look! There at the bar…the girl with the unbelievable silver-blonde hair. She hasn’t taken her eyes off you since she came in.”

Ron and Harry exchanged a glance and turned in unison towards the bar, Hermione facepalming as they did so. 

Harry couldn’t stop his mouth from gaping ever so slightly as he took in the sight of the gorgeous witch. She was standing approximately 20 meters away, alone, sipping a glass of what seemed to be white wine. Probably expensive wine, given her exquisite blue dress that dripped with crystals and showcased her physique.

Despite himself, Harry couldn’t help but give her a quick once-over. And then he very deliberately scanned her from the feet to her ankles, her calves, her knees, her arse, her hips, her breasts teasing from behind sheer fabric. His gaze rose to her piercing blue eyes to find her looking back at him. She winked.

Harry and Ron spoke at once: “I gotta go talk to her.” “Go on, then, Harry!”

Harry laughed. Ron knew him too well.

Before Harry could stand, the witch was striding towards their table, her dress tickling the tops of her knees. Her silver heels caught the candlelight that illuminated the room.

When she got to the table, she tucked flowing silver-blonde hair behind an ear and placed a hand on the table in front of Harry.

“Hi,” she said, leaning down. Harry had to tilt his ear slightly towards her. Her voice was familiar, but foreign, and caught him off-guard. 

He regained focus however and grinned broadly, responding with a simple, “Hey.” He’d all but forgotten that they weren’t alone in the bar, let alone just a couple of feet from Ron and Hermione. 

“I’m Dragana…” the witch introduced herself. Harry stared at her blankly. “My parents are Magizoologists.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said, but he’d honestly been so allured, he wasn’t paying that much attention to her words. His mouth felt dry, and he lost himself in her gaze. “I’m Harry.”

“Would you like to dance, Harry?” Dragana asked with a mischievously-raised eyebrow. The expression was painfully reminiscent of Draco, sick at home and missing Yule. But Dragana’s intent gaze quickly put thoughts of the other man out of his mind.

“I would love to.” He stood up and banged his knees on the table, clattering the silverware and china about. Harry felt his face burn as he quickly rightened the table and dinnerware. Ron guffawed, unable to control his laughter. Harry punched him in the arm, not too hard, but enough for Ron to try and defend himself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he managed. “You two have fun.” 

Dragana bit her lip to try to keep from laughing, and it was the most adorable thing Harry had ever seen.

“Let’s go,” Harry said. He took her hand and the electricity between them made Harry forget all about his embarrassing blunder. Dragana was easily two or three inches taller than Harry in her heels, which he found unexpectedly tantalizing.

He led her onto the dance floor, where the band was just beginning their next piece. Harry had no idea what it was, but suspected it was a well-known song as a few other couples had made their ways to the dance floor and looked excited.

As Harry placed his arms around Dragana’s waist, he felt sparks between them again. Was he being ridiculous?  _ No one actually feels sparks, that’s just romantic nonsense – a myth _ . But Harry couldn’t deny that there was something thrumming throughout his entire body. Where his body pressed against her, he swore he felt a distinct rush of magical energy that wasn’t his own. Familiar magic, but not his.

“So…” Harry asked, and he was embarrassed to hear his voice crack. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Who did you say you were?” 

“Dragana,” the witch reminded him, rolling the _ r _ in a way that was not English. It sounded like music to Harry’s ears, and Harry wanted to dance to it.

“Yes. Dragana…” Harry repeated, “And…do you come here often?”

Dragana chuckled, and Harry was surprised at the lower, husky quality of her voice which came out in her laughter. He was surprised, yes…and also highly attracted. He felt himself flush and his heart began to beat hard against his chest.  _ Fuck, what’s happening to me? _

“You’re cute,” she complimented Harry. “And no, this is my first time.”

“Hopefully, not the last…” Harry said and winked playfully at her. He was pleased to see her blush and give him a shy smile that reached her eyes, glinting with interest. 

“I am enjoying my time, that’s for sure,” Dragana said. 

“Me, too.” Harry nodded and led her in their dance to a more secluded part of the dance floor, near the window. The wide ledge was decorated for Advent with silver, blue, and white candles of all sizes. Outside, they could see the snow falling on a picturesque view of Diagon Alley. The snow was just starting to cling to the trees and onto the towering marble building across the street—Gringotts. The street looked chilly, and Harry turned back to the radiant witch in his arms.

“You look stunning this evening,” Harry said, and he blushed a little as he gave the compliment, something he wasn’t used to doing. “That dress is perfect on you.”

Dragana beamed at him. “I’m happy you think so…”

She trailed off, as though she had been considering saying more, but stopped herself.

_ Hmm _ … Harry had an idea. Whether it was a good one would depend entirely on Dragana’s reaction. Harry hoped it worke

“You know where else that dress would look perfect?” Harry’s heart pounded against his chest, hoping he hadn’t misread the chemistry between them. “On my bedroom floor.” 

Harry waited a beat. And then another.   
  
Finally, Dragana’s eyes widened and her mouth parted. She was quiet for only a second and then she said, “Harry…you’ve got a dirty mouth, you know that?” And before Harry could consider her words, Dragana dipped her chin and leaned forward, pressing her lips against his. 

_ Oh, shit!  _ Harry was surprised at her boldness, but immediately responded to the kiss. He wrapped his hands in her silver-blonde hair, holding her close to him, and he felt her moan gently into the kiss.  _ Fuck _ , Harry thought as he felt his body respond.

After several minutes of intense snogging, he reluctantly separated himself from Dragana, and noticed the other patrons appeared annoyed at the pair of them. A handful of people nearby were even glaring daggers at them.    
  
Harry bit his slick bottom lip in an attempt not to laugh as he looked back at Dragana. Her hair was a mess, and Harry suspected his was no better.

He glanced back at the table where Ron and Hermione were sitting. Hermione was hiding her face in her hands, obviously embarrassed, but that was nothing new. He knew she’d forgive him by tomorrow. Ron caught his gaze and gave him a thumbs up.

Harry turned back to Dragana, whose eyes hadn’t left him in the short time Harry had gotten his groundings. 

He leaned in again, this time to her ear, and kissed her earlobe gently, giving it the lightest of nibbles. Just enough to tease and show her exactly what she would be getting into…

“You wanna get out of here?” Harry whispered in her ear and he heard her whimper softly. It was one of the most arousing sounds he’d ever heard, and he felt his trousers grow a little tighter.

The words tumbled out of Dragana’s mouth in a rush, “Fuck, yes, let’s go!” 

Harry laughed at her eagerness and how it so perfectly matched his own. “Just let me grab my things from the table. I’ll meet you here.”

Dragana nodded, and even gave him a coquettish wink before he walked back towards Ron and Hermione.

“Oh. My. God,” Harry said as soon as he’d reached the table and reached out to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, checking the pockets for his wallet and keys. 

“Nice going, mate!” Ron had stood up to clap him on the back and wish him goodnight.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh and hugged his mate goodbye. He turned to Hermione who was still sitting and shaking her head. “You’re so embarrassing, you know that,” she chastised. “If you weren’t ‘The Harry Potter’ you’d have been kicked out of here no less than a dozen times already.” 

Harry leaned it and said, cheekily, “But I  _ am _ ‘The Harry Potter.’” He stuck his tongue out playfully and Hermione let out an indignant— “Oh!”— flicking him with her napkin.

“I love you!” He called over his shoulder as he made his way back to Dragana.

“Love you, too!” Ron and Hermione called back, and though Hermione was grumbling, he heard the affection in her voice.

“You ready?” Harry asked when he reached Dragana.

She nodded. Harry noticed she seemed nervous, and he reached out to hold her hand in his. “Hey. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do tonight.”

Dragana seemed grateful for Harry’s attentiveness. “I want to go home with you,” she stated, her eyes shining with lust and excitement. 

“Brilliant,” Harry said. “Right this way, madam…” And he linked his arm with Dragana’s to side-along her back to his flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 9 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry! This is part 2 of the fic I started yesterday, on Day 8 of this Advent challenge. I am getting so excited for this story, and I'll let you in on a little secret--> i'm planning to make this into a 100k+ fic in 2021! Happy Holidays :D 
> 
> An extra big thank you to my Betas crazybutgood and vukovich--they really outdid themselves with this one <3
> 
> That's all for now, and please feel free to leave a comment :D


	10. Invisible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first Christmas Eve after the war, Draco eagerly approaches Grimmauld Place. He’s been running the words through in his mind, rehearsing them for months--and he’s ready. Though Draco and Harry have been in and out of a secret relationship for over two years, Harry decided to get back together with Ginny over the summer. Draco cannot accept Harry’s choice to leave everything they shared behind, but when Harry won’t even lift the wards to allow them to talk, Draco gets desperate. 
> 
> Tags/Warning: Romantic Angst, Ends on a Cliffhanger That is Not A Happy Ending (Part of a longer WIP: "Taken" that will have a happy ending)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 10 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry! Unrelated to anything you have seen so far, (I think so at least...) this is an excerpt from my WIP “Taken.” I promise there will be a happy ending eventually, but this chapter ends on a cliffhanger that is not a happy ending yet. This particular fic is going to be a rollercoaster of fluff and angst--oh, it will hurt but feel so good at the same time! My favorite kinda story ;) What songs do you think I was inspired by for the overall work and then this chapter specifically? I doubt it will be difficult to figure it out bahahaha ;) Leave your guesses in the comments below-- I’d love to see what y’all think xoxo <3

Draco approached the wards outside Grimmauld Place and waited. And waited.

 _That fucking bastard._ _Is he really just going to let me sit out here in the cold? On Christmas_? _Is he that terrified the Weaselette will put two and two together? No. There’s no way._

“I KNOW YOU KNOW I’M HERE, HARRY!” He shouted at the muggle dwellings, Number 12 still hidden behind the wards that _fucking Potter_ refused to lift. In fact, he was starting to get some strange looks from a decrepit pensioner in Number 11—they glared daggers at him through the window beneath their wide-rimmed glasses—and Number 13—a young child with a pacifier who stood just in a nappy, both hands pressed to the window. “STOP PRETENDING I’M INVISIBLE AND BRING ME SOME FIGGY PUDDING, MOTHER FUCKER!”

Draco barely registered the pacifier dropping from the child’s mouth as he kicked at the snow beneath his feet. That was a mistake; he was not wearing the proper boots for this. Draco took a moment to stomp on the snow in a very child-like fashion, cursing it for finally deigning to make an appearance in the last few days. He cast a heating charm on his hands and feet and let out an icy laugh.

“Are you really that cold, Potter?” he called again, softer than before. Draco knew it was useless and the bastard couldn’t hear him anyway. He paced the area, hoping to trigger the wards as many times as possible. He doubted the Weaselette’s magic was attached to the wards yet; she and Harry had only just officially begun going out again after the War. But he hoped to Merlin that Harry’s own magic was on edge, sizzling at being irritated by his relentless triggering of the wards.

After five minutes of shouting and stomping, Harry still hadn’t come to meet him. Draco took off his scarf and folded it so he could sit on the snowy ground with at least a little bit of comfort. He would wait for as long as it would take for Harry to come talk to him. The bloody Gryffindor would have to cave any minute. He wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of anyone freezing to death on his doorstep because of his stubbornness.

When he finally calmed down a little and settled into his improvised seat in the snow, he realized how still the evening was. The silence was broken only by the melody of a single bird. He tilted his head up and noticed the glistening branches of a tree hanging above and around him. They were frozen, the frost seemingly having caught them by surprise. The deadheads were locked in icy cages. The sight was breath-taking, but Draco couldn’t help but wonder if the tree found the sensation unnerving or not.

The bird’s song started up again, and Draco turned towards the sound, searching for the creature in the frozen tree.

 _Sounds like it might be…_ A robin fluttered from a top branch and landed on one lower to the ground, directly in Draco’s line of sight.

“I thought it might be you.” Draco had vaguely recognized its song. “You’re a little early, aren’t you?”

The bird let out a tweet that sounded so sorrowful, Draco shivered.

“Maybe you never left?” Draco tried again.

The bird didn’t respond but started singing its springtime melody once more. When it was finished, they stared at each other in silence. Finally, the bird lightly pushed off from the branch and flew away. As Draco watched, he noticed tufts and swirls of snow beginning to fall towards the Earth.

He shivered and pulled on his well-worn dragonhide gloves.

In that moment, he felt the magic of the wards tremble and Draco quickly jumped to his feet. The front stoop of Number 12 flowed forward and spread wide, the front door popping solidly into place. Draco took that time to brush the snow from his jacket, his pants, and his hair.

When Harry stepped out of the front doors, Draco was ready for him—standing tall, his chest out and forward, the polar-opposite to his earlier state.

Harry was wearing a green Christmas jumper, most likely knitted by the Weaselette’s mother. It had a fiery red phoenix on the chest, and Draco couldn’t help smiling. He sometimes wished his mother would make him stuff like that.

Draco stood as frozen as the branches looming above him as Harry rapidly approached. And he did not look happy. But he didn’t look necessarily angry either.

“What are you doing here, Draco?” Harry’s tone was hushed and serious.

Draco felt his irritation begin to mount—something that always happened around the prat. He just didn’t know how to have a civil conversation.

But Draco could rise above this. He didn’t have to stoop to Potter’s level.

“You know why I’m here.”

“Draco.” Harry shook his head and cast his eyes away. “No.”

“Yes.”

“NO!”

Draco stumbled backwards at the force of the word, but managed to quickly regain his footing. He fell silent.

“You can’t possibly be here for...” Harry trailed off.

“For you. I’m here for you.”

Harry brought his eyes back to meet Draco’s. In those never-ending pools of emerald, Draco couldn’t help but notice a glint of…sadness— or regret.

“Harry,” Draco tried again. “She can’t…” Draco mindlessly extended his arms, grasping at the air as though searching for the words. “Harry, she can’t see the way your eyes light up when you smile.”

Draco didn’t know where those cheesy as hell words had come from. But as they fell from his lips, they knew they were true.

When Harry didn’t respond, Draco continued. “I just want you to…consider that…Harry, she doesn’t even know you! Who was with you through all the turmoil at Hogwarts? At Malfoy Manor? Of course, your best mates, but I’m talking about ME. I was there. You always came to me and I willingly welcomed you into my arms, my life. My _heart_.”

Draco saw tears forming in Harry’s eyes, but the other man blinked them away.

“Harry…She’s never going to love you like I can. I want you _so much_ Harry.”

“Stop.”

It was that one word—spoken so softly, as a plea —that made Draco stop.

“It could never work.” Harry was looking at Draco, but not in the eye. Draco felt as if he was trying to look straight through him, pretending he wasn’t there. _None of that Gryffindor courage now_ , Draco thought, his frustration at Harry peaking.

They stood there, feet buried in the snow that was growing ever-higher. Draco wasn’t sure if Harry was going to say anything else, so he took the plunge and recited the same words he’d been painstakingly rehearsing since May.

“Harry Potter. We could be this beautiful… _unbelievable_ …miracle. We always could have been. But you just wanted us to stay invisible. Like…” Draco swallowed. “It’s like you want us to be these shadows. And I just want you to realize—you have a choice. And you should choose me. And not her.”

Harry shifted his gaze to actually look into Draco’s eyes. But his normally piercing emerald eyes were now only a dull whisper of green.

“Good night, Draco.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, but surprise quickly slipped to irritation once more and he glared at Harry. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m going back to Ginny now. Please, leave. You’re really messing with the wards, and she’s starting to get suspicious about why I’m acting so strangely. And it’s Christmas.”

“I know it’s Christmas, Harry. That’s why I’m here, you _fucking_ twat.”

“Good night, Draco,” Harry said again, and turned away, walking back to the front door.

Draco was desperate to stop him. He looked around wildly, and seeing nothing but the snow, brought his gloved hands to it, forming a large, slightly mushy snowball with a mixture of old and fresh snow. Before he could register what he was doing, he had thrown it at the back of Harry’s head.

The snowball splattered across the back of Harry’s neck and the water dripped over and into his jacket.

“You call yourself a Gryffindor?” Draco snarled. “And yet you walk away.”

Harry didn’t respond. He stood still for a couple seconds, presumably in shock at the icy water on his skin. Then, he took his hand—no gloves, as though he hadn’t been planning on staying out for long—and wiped the back of his neck, clearing the rest of the snow that clung there.

Draco felt the tears flowing down his cheeks, but he wasn’t done begging. 

“I’ll stay. All night. And if in the morning your answer is still no…then I’ll leave. I’ll never darken your doorstep again.

Harry didn’t move, nor speak, as if considering Draco’s final words. Then he took another step forward, back to the House of Black, and shut the door firmly.

Draco swallowed painfully over the lump in his throat and pointed his wand at the patch of snow he’d been sitting on. He said the incantation for a hot air charm, causing the snow to melt away and reveal the Earth underneath. Then, he sat down, defiantly.

“Just one chance, Harry,” Draco sniffled as he wrapped his arms around himself again. “Please. Just give us one chance.”

The sound of the robin’s song permeated the tranquil silence once more as Draco breathed in the piercing winter air.


	11. Broom Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is bolting across the Hogwarts Grounds with Harry Potter’s broomstick, invisibility cloak and Marauders’ Map. When Harry catches up with him in the entry hall, he chases him all the way to the 7th Floor corridor where Draco locks himself in the Room of Requirement. But what is Draco’s plan? ;) 
> 
> Tags/Warning: No spoilers this time heehee, but nothing triggering and nothing you haven't already seen in this collection yet so far!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s Day 11 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry, and I continue to be surprised by the shenanigans these two keep getting into! The inspiration for this fic was of course the lovely Traditional Prompt Number 11 (the Hogwarts clock tower encapsulated in ice, surrounded by snow) but also this new Scandenavian tradition I learned about today called “Broom Hiding.” From my grandmother’s digital advent calendar. Let me tell you, she would not be pleased with what her gift has inspired, but I am SO EXCITED to share this with y’all. Enjoy!

(Picture of a snow and ice encapsulated Hogwarts/Clock Tower with snow flurries everywhere.)

(Picture of a book describing the "Broom Hiding" tradition: The winter in Scandinavia is marked by extremely few hours of daylight; it is a time of darkness and all that this implies, and thus traditional winter stories have abounded with mischievous spirits. Given that it was said that witches roam the land during the darkest month of December, brooms had to be hidden so as not to be stolen for a Christmas night-ride.)

(Picture of the next two pages describing the "Broom Hiding" tradition: Some Scandinavian traditions encourage early preparation for Christmas; the hiding of all cleaning implements is a symbolic act to remind families to rest from work and enjoy the holiday. Alternatively, some versions fo the stories actively suggest placing the brooms outside--so that a passing witch might make use of it to clean up. All non-Scandinavians, however, should bear in mind that Scandinavians love to tell stories so as to confuse gullible foreigners.)

It was a crisp winter afternoon, and Draco was sprinting across the Hogwarts Grounds as quickly as he could manage without jostling Harry Potter’s broomstick.

Draco clutched it tightly as he bolted through the snowy courtyard. Flurries of snowflakes fluttered about him happily, enjoying the burst of energy and attention on this icy, still, and deserted day in December.

He had barely escaped the Gryffindor Quidditch Team’s changing rooms without being caught. But it wouldn’t be long before Potter found his _Firebolt_ missing and would discover it had been Draco. The Slytherin attempted to even out his breath, regretting not having warmed up beforehand.

Draco jumped over an icy patch that had almost killed him yesterday morning, and deftly maneuvered his way under the gothic clock tower, which was still ticking steadily along beneath a sheet of ice and snow. He reached the castle without drawing attention. Not that it would matter—Draco was wearing Harry’s Invisibility Cloak, having stolen it last night after their clandestine tryst in the Room of Requirement

Now that he was inside, he would have to be a lot more cautious. Teachers were about, as well as Mrs. Norris. Potter had warned him that he suspected the cat could see through the Cloak.

Trying to get the broom from the entry hall to the Room of Requirement without being spotted by teachers was going to be difficult.

For one, the broomstick was longer than the Invisibility Cloak and he didn’t want anyone to spot his trainers or the brushes of the _Firebolt_ on the way to the 7th floor .

Luckily, Draco had one more trick up his sleeve. He found a secluded corner, empty except for a single suit of armor. Draco stood behind it for cover as he clumsily drew the Marauder’s Map out of his pocket. He felt more than a little guilty, but it would all be worth it. He hoped.

It looked like Mrs. Norris was sniffing around the dungeons and Filch was on his way to the kitchens.

 _Perfect_. Draco placed the map back in his pocket and returned to the entry hall to take the stairs leading him to the left corridor. A couple first year Ravenclaws were admiring the rubies, diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds in the House Point Hourglasses which were extra sparkly during Christmastime. Other than that, the place was deserted. Except—

“MALFOY!”

The unmistakable voice of Harry Potter rang out and echoed in the nearly empty entry hall. The Gryffindor was livid, his face red and a snarl contorting his gorgeous face.

Draco was so shocked, he slipped — the floor and his trainers were incredibly slick with melted snow. He fell forward, splaying his arms out to catch himself and protect the _Firebolt_ at all costs.

“Fuck!” Draco swore, as he felt the pain in his wrists and knees. He was mostly covered by the Cloak, though he was sure his hands and feet were visible. The _Firebolt_ lay, undamaged, a few inches away from Draco, who, with seeker reflexes, reached out and grabbed it just as Potter was approaching. He hopped to his feet, groaning inwardly due to the residual pain from the fall.

“Give me back my broom, you arsehole!”

But Draco was already halfway up the first flight of stairs, running for the Room of Requirement, praying to Merlin he would not slip again—who knew what might happen if he took a tumble on the Hogwarts staircase. 

Draco had no time to dwell on the thought, as Potter was catching up to him quickly.

Finally, he reached the 7th floor corridor and sprinted towards the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. His heart practically leaped out his chest in relief when he saw the door to the Room was already there. As Draco reached out and placed his hand on the door handle, an invisible barrier popped up around him and he saw Harry rebound sharply backwards and land on his bum.

 _Shit!_ That looked like it hurt. But Harry was already getting to his feet, ready to try again, so Draco threw open the door, slamming and bolting it shut behind him. Safe on the other side, Draco leaned against the door and slid to the floor, the _Firebolt_ clutched again in his right hand.

The Room must have dropped the invisible barrier it had conjured, for Draco now heard the Gryffindor pounding on the door and shouting expletives at him through the wood.

He didn’t have much time _._ Draco tuned out Potter’s howls, most likely aided by the Room, which no doubt had softened the volume of his knocks and bellows. He made his way to the bed where he had laid out his outfit that morning, after Harry had left. He banished the clothes he was currently wearing and reached for the first item.

The thigh-high black stockings that Draco rolled up his smooth, freshly shaved legs had a mesmerizing zig-zag, see-through pattern.

Next, a sinfully short black leather skirt. He’d decided against any sort of undergarment. Draco slipped it over his skinny hips and, noticing how his cock and balls peeked out, flushed.

Finally, Draco reached for the garment he’d been most excited to try. A magical and sexy black corset that had a charm on the ribbons to ensure you’ll look “just like the picture.” Draco gulped and felt his heart hammer in his chest as took the corset and placed it on his torso, connecting the hooks and eyes at the back.

It happened instantaneously. The ribbons floated into the air and started lacing into the loops at the front of the corset. They were slightly longer and dangled delicately down the body of the corset, tickling his legs where the stockings stopped.

He slipped on the expensive black-stiletto shoes with a built-in anti-tripping charm.

To top it off, there were two accessories: a black pointed witch’s hat and an ankle length cape that tied with a simple but elegant velvet ribbon around the neck.

The Room had provided three mirrors for him to admire himself in, something Draco had taken advantage of that morning when he'd been alone. He was grateful for the mirrors now—his nerves threatening to call everything off, change back into his trousers, and just give up the broomstick.

But he’d gotten this far. And he was…excited. Now to see if Potter would be, too.

Draco knelt on the floor near the center of the room, straddling the broom, and gently lifted off, letting his knees bend softly in mid-flight. One hand wrapped fingers around the broom handle in front of him suggestively, and he bit his lip at the sight. Shoulders back, other hand tipping the witch's hat, he hoped he would depict a strong “Yes, I know what I’m doing” when Harry entered the room.

Thinking of which, the Room seemingly raised the volume around the doorway once again.

“DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY IF YOU DON’T OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT THIS SECOND, I’M GOING STRAIGHT TO PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL!”

Draco couldn’t help but let out a laugh, partly from nerves, but partly at the absurdity of Potter’s threat.

“Oh, hold your Hippogriffs, Potter.”

The pounding stopped.

“Are you ready to come in?”

“Obviously, you fucking prat.”

“Are you alone?”

Potter paused and Draco felt his heartbeat accelerate once more.

Finally, Potter said, “Yes.” 

Draco trusted him. Harry was smart enough to know he wouldn’t take them all the way to the Room of Requirement for anything that wasn’t meant to be just for the two of them to see.

“Okay.” Draco drifted in midair, presenting his side to the doorway, chin angled over his shoulder.

The door clicked and the Room swung it’s door open, nice and slow, revealing Draco in all his glory.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to both my betas, crazybutgood and Vukovich for helping me create the epicness that is this one (two?!) shot (excerpt of a longer fic?!)! <3 
> 
> A shout out this time has to go out to Vukovich specifcally for finding the words and helping me describe Draco's pose for y'all ;)
> 
> I just get more and more excited to post every day, I hope you enjoyed :D


	12. Am Adventmarkt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Day 12 of "25 Days of Draco and Harry" and Draco is taking the other man on a secret holiday adventure outside of England. They’re on their way to the International Apparition Point, where Draco will side-along apparate his love to their romantic date.   
> Tags: Christmas Fluff, Advent Markets, Christkindlmarkt, Christmas Markets, soul-connected

(Picture one: Viennese architecture, buildings in the inner city)  


(Picture Two: The Adventmarkt at Karlsplatz in Vienna, Austria.)  
  
If you'd really like to immerse yourself, you can look at this map of the market and imagine where Draco and Harry are...: https://divinaart.at/marktprogramm/marktplan-2/

(Picture Three: 25 Days of Draco and Harry Prompt Number 12, a middle-aged person in a warm jacket selling hot roasted chestnuts from a little wooden hut/Christmas market stand)  
  
**  


“Where are we going?” Harry asked as they approached the International Apparition Point. It was nowhere near London. In fact, it had already taken them an hour to even get this far. They’d had to apparate from Grimmauld Place to outside London before starting their walk to the IAP. 

“ _ Ich habe keine Ahnung _ …” Draco replied, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders mysteriously.

Harry frowned at Draco’s words.

“Is that Dutch? You’re not taking me to get high in Amsterdam for Christmas, are you?”

Draco laughed. “Stop being so petulant! Can’t you just enjoy the journey?”

“It’d be more  _ enjoyable  _ if I could mentally prepare for how long we’re gonna be traveling,” Harry grumbled. Draco reached his hand out to stop his lover, who was a good two feet ahead of him now, having stomped ahead in his irritation.

“Let’s take a breather, shall we.” It could have been a suggestion, but Draco hadn’t asked a question.

Draco took out his wand to cast a cushioning spell on the ground at their feet. He tugged gently at Harry’s fingers, urging him downwards. With a short huff, Harry followed Draco towards the Earth.

Draco took both of Harry’s hands in his and lifted them to his lips. He gave Harry a tender kiss as he nonverbally cast a calming spell, his magic transferring to the other man via their brushed lips.

In unison, Draco and Harry took a deep breath, through their noses all the way down to their feet and into the Earth.

“Better?” Draco whispered.

“Much.” Harry said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Draco raised his hand to Harry’s cheek and Harry leaned into it, inhaling deeply.

“Now,” Draco said, “We will be at the International Apparition Point in less than five minutes. From there, we can safely apparate all the way to our destination. Which is only a one-minute walk from your surprise.”

He felt Harry grin against his palm. “Thank you, Draco.”

“Of course, my love.” Draco guided Harry’s face towards a more comfortable position and kissed him. Once. Twice. And then his eyelids, just for good measure.

Harry chuckled, “Alright. Let’s go.” Still holding hands, the two wixen stood up, replenished and excited to continue their journey together.

The International Apparition Point was in the middle of the woods, with only an invisible ward that made their own magic vibrate to identify it.

“Alright. Let’s go!” Draco grinned and threw something on Harry’s head—a sort of hat. No, headband. No.  _ Antlers _ . They were cheap as hell fabric antlers attached to a headband with colored jingle bells hastily hot-glue-gunned on. Before Harry could say anything, Draco had slipped his arm through his, side-along apparating his lover to their mysterious Christmas destination.

They reappeared in the middle of what looked to be a small alleyway. Harry looked around, letting out a gasp as his eyes immediately landed on a white building looming over them. The building was magnificent. Harry was a little confused about why the architectural style  _ seemed  _ old or even antique, but the material looked newer than that—not even 200 years old, he’d bet.

When Harry finally took his eyes off the gorgeous building, he was shocked to see that the entire street was packed full of similar, just as spectacular houses. Some were white such as this one--but others had been painted blue or even yellow, adding a modern effect to the historicist architecture. 

Harry was pulled out of his awestruck state by the sound of Draco’s laughter.

“We’re not even close to the really pretty place yet.”

“Prettier than this?” Harry’s eyes widened.

Draco bit his lip, trying to stifle more laughter bubbling to the surface.

“Yes. Don’t get me wrong, this is gorgeous—Historicism can be breath-taking. But I’ve got something even grander planned.”

Harry grinned. “I still have no idea where we are.” He scanned the streets for a sign and found one across the street. “Karlsgasse.”

“Is that Dutch?” Harry asked again, his mind struggling to decipher the language. How Hogwarts had gotten away without offering any foreign language classes he’d never understand.

Draco shook his head. “Nope. Now stop guessing! Let me take you somewhere so wonderful, so special. It’s one of my favorite places in this city, and I’ve been waiting two years to show it to you.”

Harry was touched. “I’m so happy to be here, then. Lead the way, good sir.”

Draco grinned, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “Yes, let’s go.”

They walked down the alley and Harry could tell that they were going to reach a more open space soon. Was it a park? There were some pretty trees, all bare and dormant, that stood as if they were greeting them. Increasingly more people were starting to appear on the little street, as if they were all being drawn together by the same force towards whatever lay ahead.

When they reached the end of the alley, Harry’s jaw dropped. Twinkling fairy lights were strewn across the trees and buildings, including a brilliant cathedral or large church. The scent of alcohol, sweets, and roasted nuts teased his nostrils, and he felt his stomach growl.

“ _ Herzlich Wilkommen _ , Harry,” Draco said, “To Vienna,  _ Austria _ .” Harry blinked towards him, his eyes widening in astonishment.

“You’ve taken me to  _ Sound of Music _ land?!” Harry practically shrieked and giggled not making any effort to disguise his pure childlike joy.

Draco let out a surprised chuckle, “Oh, Harry—” But he couldn’t say anything else, he was too busy laughing along with Harry. Draco had been quite confident about his choice of holiday destination. But he also had to admit, he had no idea Harry would be this excited about visiting the place where the classic three hour long musical with the dazzling Julie Andrews was set.

When they were able to catch their breath, Draco said, “You do realize that was Salzburg, don’t you?”

Harry’s next words tumbled out of his mouth. “I-don’t-care-we-can-go-there-next-but-tell-me-what-are-all-those-wonderful-smells?!”

Draco took his sweet but sadly-sheltered lover by the hand and led him into the Advent Market at Karlsplatz.

It was a magical little village made of wooden huts. Dusk had just fallen, giving a royal blue and purple tinge to the evening light.  _ That  _ Slytherin _ must have planned the timing like this on purpose. _

Harry could tell that the market was at its most exquisite, magical, and festive right as the sun fell back behind the... mountains. Vienna was in Austria, and Austria had mountains, right?

Suddenly, he felt slightly overwhelmed at the multitude of options and things to look at and discover.

“Look at me, love,” Draco said, and Harry did so. Draco’s lips were curved upwards in his signature Malfoy grin and Harry couldn’t help but smile back and feel instantly settled in his thoughts.

“Just close your eyes.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow.

“Just do it,  _ prat. _ ”

“I will,  _ arsehole.” _

_ “Harry.  _ Close them.”

_ “ _ They’re  _ closed _ .”

Draco kissed him. Harry let out a shocked, little yelp and opened his eyes, for which he was promptly reprimanded. Harry pouted but obediently shut his eyes once more. Draco kissed him again, but this time Harry was more prepared. He softened his lips and allowed Draco to take control and hold him, leading the kiss with his tongue which reached out and teased at Harry’s bottom lip. He opened and let Draco in. The kiss was magical—literally— Harry could feel Draco’s magic pouring into him as he inhaled his tantalizing scent, their kiss deepening for a brief second before they returned to reality.

Draco parted an inch and whispered, “Keep those eyes shut, Potter.” Harry grinned dazedly and nodded once.

Draco gently led him to the left, around the waterless stone pond filled with hay and squealing youth. He led him down past the beautiful stands full of Christmas and Advent artisanal handicrafts and closer to the origins of the glorious scent of roasted nuts that had been teasing Harry since they arrived.

Finally, Harry felt them slow and pause. A fiery heat was spreading across his face and he felt Draco press his lips to his ear. “Open.”

Harry complied, and his eyes opened to a perfectly picturesque enclosed wooden stand, like a tiny hut bedecked with golden fairy lights. Inside stood a kindly middle-aged muggle with long blue hair and a tasteful fringe. They had a couple of large iron bowls that looked amusingly like cauldrons which held an assortment of hot, roasted nuts. The muggle smiled, the corners of their eyes crinkling as they greeted Draco and Harry: “ _ Frohe Weihnachten _ !”

“ _ Frohe Weihnachten _ !” Draco replied and then translated for Harry, “Merry Christmas! What magnificent nuts do you have to offer us this evening?

“Why, I’ve got some absolutely delectable almonds and, of course, the traditional  _ Maroni _ or chestnuts.” The muggle’s English was flawless, but although Harry was surprised, Draco was treating the nut-seller as though they were old friends.

“Hmm…I will take some  _ Maroni,  _ please. And for you, Harry?” Draco turned to him.

Harry bit his lip, already salivating. “I’m going to have to go for those brown-sugar crusted almonds. I’ve never had them before, but they honestly sound like they could be my favorite food.”

Draco and the muggle laughed, Harry immediately joined in, intrigued when he saw Draco pull some muggle money out of his pocket.

“You have Euros?” Harry asked, unthinkingly.

“Obviously, Potter.”

“Oh. Ah! Right. Yes. Naturally. Of course, you would.”

The muggle, who had just finished handing them their individual paper packages of nuts, put a hand in front of their mouth and chuckled.

“Merry Christmas! Oh, and enjoy the beautiful art at the market. You’re sure to find the perfect holiday gift for someone at one of these gorgeous  _ Standerl. _ ”

“The very next thing on our list—d _ anke schön! _ ”

“ _ Bitte, gerne _ !  _ Tschau tschau!” _

Draco turned to face Harry who was staring at him as though at a loss for words. His eyes were wide, and his grin was widening steadily, causing Draco to smile as well.

“Come. Let’s sit by the hay with our nuts.”

They waved goodbye to the blue-haired muggle whom they left smiling and shaking more brown sugar over her nuts.

“Are you ready for this?” Draco asked as they settled down on the edge of the stone pond.

“I don’t know, my mouth is watering so much, I can barely contain myself.”

“Hot,” Draco said and winked.

“Indeed.” Harry drew a single brown sugar-crusted almond from his paper package and Draco took a mouth-watering hot roasted chestnut out of his own.

Draco and Harry intently brought the two nuts to meet in the air between the two of them, clinking them together in a mock-toast.

“To us.” Harry said.

“To life.” Draco added.

“To our life together.” Harry concluded, and Draco nodded, biting his lip.  _ Sappy Gryffindor.  _ Tugging at Draco’s emotions as though he were strumming a guitar.

Draco popped his chestnut into his mouth and Harry his almond, both savoring their distinct flavor of their individual nut before biting down onto the crispy roasted nuts with a  _ crunch. _

“Mmm,” Harry moaned, his eyes closing to further relish the new taste.

“How is it?” Draco asked.

Harry opened his eyes and met Draco’s. He smiled, his feelings for the other man swelling within him. He swallowed and replied, “Perfect. Just perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been a little down about the Christmas markets being closed this year due to COVID regulations. By diving into this story I was able to capture some of the magic one feels when visiting a Viennese Christmas market, and I hope you all enjoyed this romantic advent story for Draco and Harry <3 xo


	13. A Second Advent Surprise...Or Not?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Draco has a second surprise for Harry, one that he hasn’t yet mentioned. A grave mistake that he soon realizes as the Adventmarkt am Karlsplatz draws to a close on Christmas Eve. 
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Christmas Fluff and Romance, mentions of a panic attack that is prevented and de-escalated quickly

(Prompt 13 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry: Close up of frozen ice and snowflake crystals.)  
  


(Image: The Adventmarkt am Karlsplatz in Vienna, Austria. The church stands magnificently in the background, in the foreground there is a hay pen and fairy lights strung across the market--for a more detailed description of the church continue reading the story!)

***********

“And now, Harry dear...” Draco kissed Harry on the cheek. “I have another surprise for you.” They were walking up towards _Karlskirche_ , or “Charles’ Church” as Draco had translated for Harry. It was one of the most astounding baroque churches in Vienna, dedicated to Saint Charles Borromero, according to Harry’s stunningly gorgeous tour guide. Draco had taken him on a tour of the outside of the church after they’d done some Christmas shopping at the _Standerln._

* 

“You know, this church is considered architect J.B. Fischer’s greatest work,” Draco had explained, “And it’s not too difficult to comprehend why. As you can see—” Draco looked up at the building in awe as he held both arms open, presenting the church to Harry, who bit his lip attempting not to laugh at his lover who was taking his tour very seriously. 

“Now, Harry, are you paying attention? Look. Do you see the façade in the center, which leads to the porch?” 

Harry nodded. 

“It mimics Greek temple porticos.”

“Ah…” Harry had remembered those from their trip to Greece, summer of last year. Ever since the beginning of their relationship, Draco had whisked Harry to different holiday destinations—evidently for the sole purpose of admiring the architecture. Draco could be such an insufferable architecture snob when he wanted to be, and Harry loved him dearly for it.

“And those neighboring columns—” Draco pointed out the columns on either side of the portico. “Their sculptures display scenes from the life of Charles Borromeo in a spiral relief. Charles, as in, _Karl_ , the patron saint this church was built to commemorate who was revered as a healer for plague sufferers.”

“Oh, wow.” Harry had been standing a good two meters from the left column and he bent back to admire the magnificent piece of architecture from the bottom up. 

“Mmm, yes, I see the sculptures you were talking about. It’s beautiful.”

Draco nodded. “However, the columns were not crafted by J.B. Fischer himself.”

“Oh, no?” Harry couldn’t believe that after two years, Draco had finally got him hooked on this stuff too. 

“Nope. That was Lorenzo Mattielli, who was inspired by Trajan’s column in Rome.”

Harry’s eyes widened, as it finally dawned on him. “You’ve been planning this. Ever since we got together. It’s true! Don’t even try to hide it anymore!”

Draco laughed, caught red-handed.

“First, we went to Rome on our first holiday together, then we went to Greece that summer...”

Draco nodded, the grin breaking out across his face. “And you know why, don’t you?”

“I would have never understood the epicness of this magnificent piece of architecture if you hadn’t have taken me to those places first.” Harry finally returned Draco’s grin and he felt tears form behind his eyes. “This is the most well-thought out and meaningful gift anyone could have ever given me, Draco. Thank you so much.”

*

Harry was pulled out of the blissful memory of an hour ago by the fresh snowfall. The muggles huddling around their P _unch_ at tall wooden tables were pleasantly startled. 

“ _Es schneit?_ Boah, _super!”_

 _It’s perfect_ , Harry thought. “But, Draco…” Harry picked up their conversation about the second surprise from earlier. “There’s just one problem with this second surprise of yours…” 

“Oh, what’s that?”

“How—Draco, the market is closing…” Harry trailed off and gestured towards the muggles who were packing up their little wooden huts. The muggle who had sold them the nuts was struggling with the metal hinges on theirs and couldn’t lock the window. Harry couldn’t resist using a bit of wandless magic. He lightened the burden on the contraption, which then glided smoothly into place on the muggle’s next attempt.

Draco turned to Harry and grinned, shaking his head. Harry was always showing off with that fancy trick of his. But risking it around muggles didn’t always thrill Draco in the same way it did Harry.

“You’re reckless, you know that, Potter?”

“You love it,” Harry retorted.

Draco bit his lip.

“It turns you on a little, doesn’t it?”

Draco felt his cheeks burn.

“What does? No, it doesn’t.”

Harry laughed, having successfully flustered Draco into an adorable mess.

Harry leaned forward and whispered in Draco’s ear. “You like that little spark of danger when I flirt with the _Statute of Secrecy_. Don’t you?”

Draco did not speak. He couldn’t. He could only attempt and fail to stifle a moan, which Harry took as confirmation.

There was a loud bang as one of the artisans slammed their hut shut and it startled Draco to his senses. He glared at Harry. “Come on, _du Ungeheuer_ , let’s get you out of here before you cause a scene.”

Harry laughed lightheartedly, knowing Draco trusted him and didn’t believe Harry would actually cause a scene in front of the muggles. But what in Merlin’s name was an _Ungeheuer?_ Draco’s multilingualism never failed to leave him dazed and confused.

Harry made to walk back along Karlsgasse towards their previous apparition point, but Draco held him back.

“What?” Harry narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“We’re not going home yet.”

“Well, then where are we going?” Suspicion mounted in his emerald eyes, sparkling in the glittering fairy lights.

“We are going to take the Underground.”

Harry’s jaw dropped open and his head fell forward slightly. “Are you kidding me? It’s midnight! There’s… so many things that could go wrong...”

“It will be an adventure, Harry, come on! And Vienna is one of the safest cities in the world...” Draco trailed off and exhaled deeply as realization hit him. 

He hadn’t _surprised_ Harry. It must have felt to him more like an ambush. Harry had known there was _one_ surprise, which had given him time to mentally prepare for it before they had even left Grimmauld Place. But _this_ surprise was completely new to Harry.

“Mm-mm.” Harry shook his head stubbornly, his body going rigid, rooting himself to the spot. Draco could sense though their bond that Harry’s heartbeat was accelerating, and his thoughts were gearing him closer towards spiraling.

Draco looked at him with warm grey eyes, attempting to melt the frozen wall behind the icy façade that Harry and his magic were figuratively creating around him. Draco imagined it looked like delicate frozen snowflake crystals on a frosted windowpane. 

“Okay.” Draco said simply. He paused, and then said it again. “Okay.” He opened his chest and held his arms out in a receiving pose. “Do you want to come in?” Harry nodded and buried his face against Draco’s chest and hugged him close.

Draco wrapped his arms around the slightly shorter man and said, his voice soft, “I’ve got a different plan. One that’s better for you. It’s a plan that won’t include traveling with an unknown Underground in a foreign city.”

Harry tightened his grip around Draco. “What is it then?’

Draco swallowed. “You’re beautiful.”

Harry let out a shocked burst of laughter. “What are you saying?”

“You’re beautiful,” Draco repeated. “It’s true. I saw you here, at the market—we were moving from place to place, _Standerl zu Standerl_ in this horribly crowded market. Did you see how many people arrived just as we had finished our nuts and begun to look at the different _Kunsthandwerk_? Anyways. Harry,” Draco looked the other man in the eye and grinned. “You’re so beautiful. And this place is so beautiful. And I just can’t comprehend it.”

For the second time in just as many minutes Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Comprehend what?” 

“I don’t understand how I could be here with _you_ .” Harry’s eyebrows popped up and then glared at Draco’s cheesiness, but the former Slytherin pressed forward with only a slight raise of his own eyebrow to warn his Gryffindor to shut his mouth. “You are this absolutely beautiful being, and _this—”_ He gestured all around him, the fairy lights still twinkling in the trees above them, and the huts wrapped nice and tight for the night. “ _This_ place is absolutely beautiful. How could I be so lucky? To get to be _here_ , with _you._ ”

Harry was already grinning from ear to ear before Draco had even gotten to his final point.

“You are such a Hufflepuff, you know that?” Harry said and he pulled the blond towards him before the other man had a chance to mock-react to Harry’s audacity in comparing him to a Hufflepuff. Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s. The kiss was sweet and deep, and when the two released, they felt grounded again, with themselves, with their magic, and with the Earth.

“How are you?” Draco whispered.

“I’m good. Much better. But…” Harry’s eyes begged at him from approximately two inches down. “Please. Don’t make me go on the Underground.”

Draco’s lips curled in a smile. “No problem, my love. I’m glad you spoke up and stopped me.”

“You’re not…disappointed that I ruined the second part of our date?” Harry asked, he still looked sheepish and guilty, and Draco put his hand to Harry’s cheek in a soft caress.

“Quite the contrary, Harry. I hadn’t thought it out properly, and now I’m relieved for the opportunity to take you on a second date where I get to spoil you a _second_ time. A new evening, at sunset instead of midnight, a second particularly magical _Adventmarkt._ How does tomorrow evening sound?”

Harry’s heart fluttered, already looking forward to the next day of Advent.

“Perfect. Tomorrow evening sounds just perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to my betas for pushing me to do more and describe more. I'm so tired hahaha, but so pleased with this chapter. I hope you enjoyed <3


	14. Our Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragana (trans/gender fluid Draco) and Harry are taking a ride on the Firebolt. It’s midnight on Rosh Chodesh, and the two get talking about “their” song. 
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Suggestive and smutty dialogue, teasing, dirty talk kink, trans/gender fluid Draco (in this fic, she’s Dragana and uses she/her pronouns)

(Image: Reindeer underpants, with the stuffed animal face and nose of Rudolf at the crotch. The pants are velvet brown with a wide black elastic band at the top. A belt buckle in the middle of the band is made of gold ribbon and the edges of the short legs are white.)  
  
**

“Are you sure this is safe?!” Dragana held Harry tightly around the middle, face buried between his shoulder blades. The two wixen had just lifted off from Grimmauld Place for a romantic midnight ride on Harry’s _Firebolt,_ and Dragana was not convinced that this was the smartest idea her reckless Gryffindor had ever had. Granted, Harry'd had way worse. 

But those past decisions weren’t what terrified Dragana, 20 meters in the air, unable to shake the horrible image of falling to the cold, hard ground. Yes, there was a fresh cushion of snow, and yes, she trusted Harry, but two grown people on a broomstick? It was not an easy feat.

“Oy, Dragana, loosen up, will you? Ow!” He patted at her white-knuckled hands clasped around his waist.

“Sorry, love.” Dragana loosened her grip and took a few deep breaths.

“Let me cast the balancing and stasis charms—” Harry did so with a flip of the wrist.

“There. It should feel a lot more secure now. Dray—Dragana?”

“I’m fine, Potter, stop worrying.”

“Having fun yet, Malfoy?” Harry teased.

“Sod off,” Dragana muttered, but she wasn’t irritated in the slightest. Now that she was certain of the _Firebolt_ ’s security under Harry’s charms, she pulled her hair loose from her ponytail, her long silver-blonde hair rushing past her shoulders and landing in delicate curls. “Nearly ready.”

“Mm-hmm,” Harry hummed, “Take your time, sweetheart.”

After just another moment, Dragana kissed Harry on the neck, pleasantly surprised at how warm the man’s skin was under his jacket collar.

Harry’s left hand was casually extended forward, gripping the exquisite broom handle. The veins in his arm were accentuated by the firelight coming from the lantern they had magically affixed about a foot from the handle’s edge. Harry’s right arm reached around and gently squeezed Dragana’s thigh. Dragana felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest. This had been such a magnificent idea, except…

“Harry, this midnight ride is one of the most romantic ideas you’ve had in awhile—”

“Codswallop, Malfoy,” Harry playfully sniped, “I have romantic ideas every day and you know it.”

“You’re right,” Dragana backpedaled, “I just meant, this is particularly splendid—you really outdid yourself this time, spoiling me. I don’t deserve this.” She tapped Harry on the shoulder so he would turn to face her. When he had, Dragana batted her eyelashes at him, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“Mm-hmm, go on. I’m listening.” Harry turned back to watch where they were flying.

“But you see…it is _Rosh Chodesh_ , the New Moon, and…it is quite dark, wouldn’t you say?”

“Dragana, I am appalled,” Harry deadpanned. “There’s a lantern right here in front of us.”

“I see it, Harry, I’m not blind, you kn—”

“And that upgraded laser charm on my eyes from last time we were at St. Mungo’s has been doing absolute wonders for my nighttime flying. You had no idea we were going the wrong way for the first two minutes of our journey before I deftly maneuvered us back on track.”

“Oh, for the love of Merlin, please, shut up, I can’t take it anymore,” Dragana begged.

Harry chuckled, but changed the subject. “It’s _Rosh Chodesh_ , you say? Have you set your intentions for the New Moon?”

“Of course, Potter, you know I prepare days in advance.”

Potter snorted. “I know, Dray.”

“And what about you? Any seeds you’re hoping to plant this month?”

Harry pondered this. “I want to be open to anything and everything,” he stated finally. “I feel as if...the world is our oyster now. You know what I mean?”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Dragana said. 

They enjoyed a moment of stillness of Midnight, connecting with the Elements around them, and released their New Moon intentions into the darkness.

When he sensed they were both finished, Harry asked,“Do you have the radio?”

“Oh, yes! Of course— I’ll get it.” Dragana reached into her pocket for the Expandable Bag, and pulled out the gayest radio. To be more specific, this gay radio was queer as fuck. It was rainbow (black, brown, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple) on one side and trans pride on the other (blue, pink, white, pink, blue).

As Dragana started turning the dial, trying to find some music, a thought occurred to her.

“You alright, baby?” Harry must have noticed Dragana’s change in demeanor as the thought floated in her mind. “Something wrong?” Harry stroked Dragana’s thigh.

“No, nothing. I was just thinking…we don’t have a song.”

“Oh, I see,” Harry said, his tone serious. “That…might be true.”

“ _Might_ be? Harry, we definitely don’t have a song. I would remember.”

“Dragana…our song…is the sound of echoing footsteps in the deserted corridors at Hogwarts. Sneaking to the Room of Requirement all through sixth year.” Harry took a breath and continued. “When we were whispering to each other in the back of classrooms, and you spoke so slowly.” Harry moved his lips and tongue languidly around the words. 

“You had to. The teacher and other students didn’t know and might hear the dirty sweet nothings you _always_ relentlessly tortured me with. _Merlin_ , you were such a tease.

"Our song is the way you laugh. Embarrassed at first, not sure if you should take up any space and then finally letting go and allowing your voice to ring like a beautiful melody. Our song is…the first time we kissed. I should’ve kissed you so much sooner, but this kiss…it was so special, Dray. Like our magic was finally coming together, like it had been calling out to do since we met in Madam Malkin’s all those years ago. Our song is those little breathy moans you made then and still make now every time we kiss. You ssentimental _Sslytherin,_ ” Harry allowed the S’s to hiss out of his mouth in a way he knew Dragana loved. Dragana felt her cheeks start to warm and felt Harry’s body shake as he chuckled.

_Prat always knows when I’m embarrassed._

_I can’t help it you’re so adorably transparent._

Dragana shivered, a sizzle of Harry’s magic rushing down her spine, as the man’s voice swirled and danced in her head.

“Finally,” Harry wrapped up his explanation, “Our song is the sound of the Earth…humming. Every night, when we are preparing for bed, casting spells of protection, health, warmth, and peace around our home, hearth, and hearts. When we reconnect our magic with its source and with each other—that hum is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. It’s my favorite song.”

Dragana felt the tears forming in her eyes and was powerless to stop them from dripping down her cheeks, splashing down the front of her sapphire blue bedazzled jacket. She quickly rubbed her face on Harry’s back, and took a deep breath to steady herself, wanting to hear, and _feel,_ every word.

“I look forward to listening to it every evening with you," Harry whispered. "Our song.”

After a moment of blissful silence as they both soaked up Harry’s words, Dragana sniffed and said, “I love you so much, Harry.”

“I love you, too, Dragana,” Harry said, soft and tender.

“You know,” Dragana said, “I’ve heard every wixen song that’s been released since 1970. And you know I’ve got a pretty good grasp of muggle music by now as well.”

“It’s improved significantly,” Harry confirmed, though reluctantly.

Dragana gave him a short pinch in the side. The man yelped but let Dragana keep making her point.

“I’ve listened to the WWN, British radio channels, online radio channels from around the planet—waiting for something to come along that would be good enough to be our song. And yet here you are—right all along. We already have our song.”

Harry leaned comfortably into Dragana with a content hum—but Dragana wasn’t finished.

“Our song is all of those things, yes…but it’s also your feet thumping through the Malfoy Grounds under your Invisibility Cloak, sneaking your way to my bedroom, putting on those reindeer underpants—“ Harry made an undignified squawk. “Yes, Harry…those reindeer underpants with your cock so tastefully filling in the fabric to form—”

“Are you serious?!” Harry was so startled he jerked the broom and the two of them had to hold on tight so as not to fall off.

“Oy, Potter! Careful, there—”

“Well, don’t go bringing up _the_ most embarrassing moment of my life, then, thank you very much!”

“There’s a reason, Harry, just trust me. Please, may I continue?” Harry didn’t respond. “Please?” Dragana pressed.

“Fine,” Harry grumbled, and his petulance was so cute, Dragana had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing and swooping around to kiss away his pout.

“Okay, so where was I?” Dragana shook her hair loose from where it had gotten caught under her collar, tossing it over her shoulders again, the silver-blonde an intensive highlight to the deep blue of the sapphires.

“Ah, yes. Our song is you losing your wits when my father knocked on the door and you ended up _tripping out the window,_ landing arse-first in my mother’s favorite rose bush, and yowling so loudly, Hildegarde, the house elf, couldn’t help but notice you. Our song is your magnificent yelp as thorns scraped your skin, and how horrified poor Hildegarde looked as Monsieur Rudolph’s nose bobbed right out and tapped her own nose as she came to your aid. Our song is my riotous laughter tumbling down from the balcony as you scowled and harrumphed away, only to return the very next night. ”

Harry groaned painfully.

“In that single moment, I fell in love with you a thousand times over.”

“Are you done y—"

“No. Shut _up,_ Potter, you’re infuriating.” Dragana raised her voice, talking over Harry in order to continue. _“_ Our song is when you’re fucking me and all you can do is whimper my name over and over as you cum inside me…Draco…Dragana…Dray…It’s so hot. The way you moan and gasp during those orgasms—”

“Dray!”

If possible, Harry was even more embarrassed about Dragana’s description of the song of their sex life than the humiliating rose bush story.

“I’m almost done, I promise,” Dragana kissed the nape of Harry’s neck. “Our song is the gasp that escaped my lips, the day you told me you chose me and our life together over everything you’d ever known and loved and cherished so deeply. I couldn’t believe I was worth it.”

“You’re so worth it, Dragana,” Harry whispered. His skin was still flushed with residual embarrassment, but Dragana noticed the teardrops in Harry’s eyes, threatening to fall, and finally, one fell, gliding smoothly down Harry’s cheek and lingering at the bottom of his chin. Dragana quickly leant forward to put her lips to it in a tender kiss. The salty taste spread across her taste buds as she sent a pulse of her magical energy into the other wix.

She released her lips wetly and said, “I’m not finished.”

Harry whimpered and Dragana snickered. She bit his earlobe gently and whispered, her breath warm on Harry’s skin: “Our song is my own incoherent utterings when you take me. When you sslide your hands acrosss my body—when you sslip insside me like that ssneaky Sslytherin we both know you really are…”

Harry shivered, whether from the chilly evening breeze or Dragana’s serpent-like hissing in his ear he wasn’t sure.

“And, of course, our song is the sound of the Earth’s hum. Every night, when we are preparing for bed, casting spells of protection, health, warmth, and peace around our home, hearth, and hearts. When we reconnect our magic with its source and with each other—” Dragana suddenly broke off, reaching into the Expandable Bag.

“What?” Harry turned carefully over his shoulder, trying not to jostle the two of them.

“I’m looking for my quill and some parchment...”

“Why?”

Dragana chuckled. “I want to write this down.”

Realization finally dawned on Harry. “You’re writing our song, aren’t you?” Harry shook his head, but when he spoke again, Dragana could hear the smile in his voice, “You ssentimental Sslytherin.”

“You know it,” Dragana replied. She was already nose deep in the parchment, the quill scratching away…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It’s Day 14 of Draco and Harry and here’s some more trans/gender fluid Dragana loveliness <3 xo In case it isn’t painfully obvious, this fic is inspired by “Our Song” by Taylor Swift.


	15. The Rise and Fall of Lord Voldemort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry celebrates his new accomplishment with his loved ones--including the one person whose inspired him the most. In fact, this achievement is mutually theirs, and theirs alone--not just some fate that was thrust upon them. He and this person have had vastly different but shockingly similar journeys and they are both about to reap the benefits of their hard work.
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Mentions of post traumatic stress disorder/war trauma/abusive childhoods. Mentions of racism and supremacist systems. Trans/gender- fluid Draco (In this fic they go by Dray and use they/them pronouns).

(Image: a feminine person with long wavy brown hair and brown skin wearing white nail polish, white heels, and a blue dress. For a more detailed description of this dress, please continue reading the story!)  
  


(Image: a faded metal green sign for the shop “Flourish & Blotts” in Diagon Alley. The initials F B are written in cursive script at the top, with two quills underneath, above the words: Flourish & Blotts Bookseller, in a similar fancy script.)  
  


_ ** _

“Just breathe, Harry. You’re going to be fine. More than fine. You will be  _ bloody brilliant _ .” Ron clapped his best mate on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear .

Harry couldn’t help but return the smile and gave Ron a tight hug.

He turned to Hermione, who was holding back tears as she said, “They’re going to love you, Harry. They already do.”

Harry nodded. He was also optimistic, despite the nerves biting at his stomach like the tiny nibble fish at the aquarium.

Finally, he turned to the one person who had been his number one inspiration. The person who’d helped him find his true self and had been with him as he tried to live on, survive, in a post-Voldemort society where it seemed  _ nothing  _ had changed.

The status quo was just as fucked as it had been before Voldemort’s downfall. The Wizengamot was still controlled by a Pureblood majority _,_ despite them being a minority in the magical world. Not to mention the disgusting apartheid-reminiscent classification of various magical creatures with “beings” at the top, “beasts” in the middle, and “spirits” at the bottom. It made him sick to his stomach just thinking of the injustice thrust upon everyone who wasn’t a Pureblood human wizard.

He hadn’t considered it growing up, even when Hermione tried to push S.P.E.W. literature on him in fourth year, but now her gradually growing political movement to dismantle the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures Department had finally caught his attention. He’d listened in horror as Hermione had explained the three classifications to Harry and realized that non-human magical creatures had been royally fucked by the system. 

He knew they must have mentioned it in History of Magic class, but he wondered whose interpretation they had learned. Harry now stood behind Hermione fully and supported her movement’s push to create new rules and regulations for inter-species respect and collaboration.

Thoroughly outraged at the Ministry, Harry had come up with the one thing he had the power to do to try and stop the flawed and broken system from harming anyone else. Yes, Harry had tried to do the right thing all his life, but his fate has been forcibly thrust upon him. He had no choice. But now he was free.  _ They  _ were free.

They could make whatever choices they wanted. As soon as the Battle of Hogwarts was over, the two of them had made a powerful wish. A wish to whomever was listening—God, Merlin, the Universe, their own Magic—for freedom and strength. Freedom to make their own choices and the strength to heal themselves and their loved ones—their community.

They had, of course, learned so much from their experiences up until that point and had made many wonderful memories. But the trauma of all the…not-so-wonderful memories and experiences had been challenging them every day these past two years, as it would continue to do so for the rest of their lives. All the pain and hurt they had gone through, with no help from the Ministry, from the very wixen they had saved from Lord Voldemort, ending his reign of terror. A slap in the face from the wizarding world—the very place that had taken him in when he was 11 years old and rescued him from his abusive childhood with the Dursleys. It had been the ultimate betrayal.

Harry shook his head forcefully, trying to get out of his spiral and stay in this glorious moment. With  _ them.  _ The two of them had earned this.

“Are  _ you _ ready?” Harry asked the glorious wix in front of him. Dray was wearing a beautiful royal blue chiffon dress with a floral-patterned lace panel that covered the dress from collarbone to the very bottom, where the dress pressed tightly to their legs, like a pencil skirt. Around their waist and at the small of their back, the wix had tied the magnificent ribbon of an overlay chiffon skirt which flowed post their ankles and opened in a wide slit over their right hip. On their feet they had glittering, delicate silver heels which came to a triangular point at the toes. The same silvery glitter was found on their stunning earrings—a dangling chain of three increasingly larger hoops that sparkled when they moved.

Dray held Harry’s chin with their long, pale fingers, gently tilting his face towards them until emerald eyes met silver as they whispered, “Of course, I’m ready. When I’m with you—always.”

The two shared a quick kiss, their magic intermingling where their lips met and emitting a soft hum of calm within the two wixen. They separated and smiled, ready to face the throng of people just behind the curtain.

“I’ll step out and introduce you,” Hermione said, giving the two of them a quick kiss on the cheek, Dray bending slightly and Hermione tiptoeing to reach them in the silver heels.

Only a short moment later, Hermione’s voice rang out on the other side of the curtain. Harry imagined her standing at the podium, her wand outstretched with a light  _ Sonorous  _ charm upon it.

“Hello, everyone! Distinguished guests, wixen from around the UK and the world—I thank you so much for being here today to celebrate the pre-release of Harry and Draco Potter-Malfoy’s new book:  _ The Rise and Fall of Lord Voldemort: A Chronological History of the Darkest Wizard of the 20 _ _ th _ _ Century _ . 

My name is Hermione Granger, pronouns she/her, and today you will be speaking with Harry, pronouns he/him, and  _ Dray, _ pronouns they/them.” Hermione read the last sentence directly from her paper making sure she got it right and the message had been accurately transmitted to the crowd. “Without further ado—Please welcome Harry and Dray!”

Harry raised a shaky hand and wandlessly magicked the curtain aside, revealing the mob of people crammed into the tiny  _ Flourish and Blotts, _ filling the available chairs and standing on the sides, eyes sparkling with excitement. He didn’t recognize anyone, but Dray caught his eye and glanced towards the first and second row on their right side—the reserved section.

Harry followed his gaze and immediately relaxed as he took in the sight of Hagrid, the Weasleys, Luna, Neville, Blaise, Professor McGonagall, Andromeda, Narcissa, and little toddler Teddy.

He’d never been happier to see all of them, supporting him and Dray for an accomplishment that finally felt like  _ theirs _ . Professor McGonagall and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher had already added their new textbook to the Hogwarts curriculum and would be implementing it the following term.

Harry took a deep breath and squeezed Dray’s hand, who squeezed back as they waved at their loved ones.  _ All was well _ . For this moment, at least. And though Harry was terrified about the future, he remembered a wise Magizoologist once said, “If you worry, you suffer twice.” And there had been enough suffering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Day 15! I can't believe there's only ten days left, and it also feels like a lifetime away bahahahaha. I hope you enjoyed <3 xo


	16. Once Upon a Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Dray comes downstairs looking more delicious than the cookies Harry has just finished decorating, Dray must decide whether she’s willing to let go of all the hard work she’s put into this outfit…
> 
> Tags/Warning: trans/gender fluid Draco (Dray, pronouns she/her in this scene), suggestive but leading to some wonderful holiday smut ;)

(Image: a table laden with decorated Christmas cookies (including stockings, gingerbread men, and a Santa jumper) tea light candles, and different pies.)

Image: a white femme person in a scarlet Christmas gown with faux white fur highlighting the edges of the cape, its train, the collar and sleeve cuffs. See story for a more detailed description!)  
  
**

Harry had just finished decorating the cookies for the annual Potter-Malfoy Christmas Party. He admired the stockings and gingerbread men, perfectly frosted with red, green, and white icing. Harry had to admit, he was getting good at this.

He heard Draco’s steps on Grimmauld Place’s creaky old staircase — coming down after having just finished decorating the upstairs hall with Hildegard, their house elf— and couldn’t help but smile. They’d barely seen each other all day as they were caught up in party preparations and Draco was going to try and snatch as many of these cookies before the party as he could. Harry just knew it. He conjured some candles and summoned the treacle tart, berry and pumpkin pies from the kitchens and skillfully set the table. The tablescape wouldn’t be up to Draco’s standards, he knew that. But he knew, just like his cookie decorating skills, he was getting a lot better at decorations and table settings.

He felt arms wrap around his middle from behind and sighed contentedly as lips pressed against his cheek. “It’s Dray, today,” the wix whispered in his ear and Harry nodded, his eyes closed in order to better heighten his other senses as he turned to kiss his lover. He teased himself in his imagination, wondering what Dray might look like today— it was the Christmas Party, after all, and he knew Dray loved fancy silk things. 

Harry hummed softly, savoring the kiss for a moment longer before pulling away, eyes still closed.

“They?”

“She. And any honorifics you should choose.”

Intrigued, Harry opened his eyes and finally caught sight of Dray. His eyes bulged and he didn’t even attempt to stop the huge grin now spreading across his face. “Like ‘My Absolutely Gorgeous Prince’ who looks fucking radiant in that gown?”

Dray chuckled and stepped back to give a twirl. The scarlet Christmas gown fell straight to the floor and was covered by a brilliant long-sleeved, floor length cloak which trailed a couple of feet behind her in a sweep train which reminded Harry of Dray’s wedding dress. This gown, however, was much more festive: a crimson velvet cloak trimmed in white faux fur. The soft fur trim ran down both edges of the cape to meet in the center of Dray’s chest before separating again to reveal the scarlet gown hugging her hips.

“I—I can’t even, Draco. Dray,” Harry corrected himself and Dray grinned brightly. She looked more delectable than Harry’s cookies.

“You are so beautiful,” Harry complimented her. “Too bad it’s gonna have to come off…”

Dray’s eyes widened and then narrowed, “And why in Merlin’s name would you say that, Potter?”

“You’ll see.” Harry’s voice was low and he stepped towards Dray seductively, but the wix hesitated. Harry raised an eyebrow in question.

“But…it took me so long to get ready…” Dray complained.

“I know.” Harry nodded.

“And you’re just going to undo it all?”

“That was the plan,” Harry laughed. “I’ll help you get ready again—not even Neville will arrive for at least an hour.”

Dray frowned and bit her lip, considering.

“We don’t have to—” Harry began, but Dray crashed her lips to Harry’s, pouring her need and lust for the other wix into the kiss.

Harry’s chuckle was quickly silenced by Dray’s fervent lips, which refused to let him go, now that Dray had him.

“So...what have you got under here?” Harry used his eyes to gesture up and down the length of Dray’s gown.

“You want a peek?” Dray said, her voice a tantalizing whisper.

Harry’s emerald eyes glinted in response, and Dray reached out to take his hand, placing it gingerly under her cape, to cup her right breast. The physical connection triggered their bond, and in his mind’s eye Harry saw the lingerie Dray had picked out. His cock stirred and his breathing became labored.

“Upstairs. Now.” Harry ordered, his voice low and raspy. Dray laughed and took Harry’s hand, spun herself around, and playfully dragged her husband to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 16 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry! I'm so sorry to have left you with such a cliffhanger, but today was my first rough day while writing as I go through some personal things. Don't worry, I can promise the smut hinted at in today's chapter will come back before Christmas ;)


	17. Once Upon a Christmas Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before heading upstairs, Dray has an unexpected Christmas gift for Harry…
> 
> Tags/Warnings: trans/gender fluid Draco (Dray, pronouns she/her in this scene), suggestive-mature, leading to some wonderful holiday smut to come soon ;) )

(Image: Red and gold wrapped presents with decadent ribbons under a Christmas tree. Red and gold baubles are also at the foot of the tree, along with pine branches and pinecones. Everything is on a rustic wooden floor.)

Image: Red and gold wrapped presents with decadent ribbons under a Christmas tree. Red and gold baubles are also at the foot of the tree, along with pine branches and pinecones. Everything is on a rustic wooden floor.

**

Dray hadn’t taken him up the staircase as suspected, instead, she swiftly maneuvered behind Harry, covering his eyes with her hands. “Where are you taking me?” 

“Shh!” Dray scolded. “It’s a surprise.” Harry suspiciously allowed Dray to guide him, not sure where he was being led, but assumed they were headed towards the living room and he felt a spark of intrigue ignite in him.

“Alright. You ready?” Dray’s hands were still warm against Harry’s eyelids.

“I suppose so…”   
  
Dray released his hands, and Harry blinked his eyes open.

“You finished the tree?!” Harry exclaimed, beaming like a child as he rushed to the tree to check out the ornaments. The baubles were gold, scarlet, green, and silver, and were glittering and sparkling—no doubt with the help of Dray’s and Hildegard’s combined magic. 

Harry had to roll his eyes at the blatant homage to their Hogwarts house colors, but adored the tree all the same. The wixen and house elf’s decorations had been popping up around the house throughout December, and Harry was always amazed at what their combined magic could accomplish.

Under the tree sat a collection of expertly wrapped gifts—Harry had been practicing, in secret, but he was abysmal at it the muggle way, and Harry was still mastering the gift-wrapping charms Dray had finally shared with him.

Most of the presents were wrapped in the same color scheme as the tree, tied with lace ribbons and exquisite bows.

“I have a gift for you.” Dray withdrew a particularly gorgeous gift and gave it to Harry.

“Dray, you know it’s not Christmas yet,” Harry playfully chastised, but he was more than excited about getting a Christmas gift earlier—especially if it was related to them going to the bedroom.

“Well,” Dray licked her bottom lip in a way that made Harry’s cock stir again. “It’s actually a gift for both of us.”

“Is it?” Harry quirked an eyebrow, his interest thoroughly peaked. “Well, then…I suppose I could make an exception. Just this once,” he said with a wink. He carefully untied the golden ribbon and delicately tore off the individual pieces of Spellotape, letting the paper slowly separate from the box.

Dray could barely contain her excitement as Harry opened the box tantalizingly slowly.

“Come on! Just tear it open!” She placed her hand on his arm and pushed him playfully.

“Patience, young Prince, or I might have to tear _you_ open.” Harry threatened.

Dray’s voice whispered in his head: “ _That’s the idea_ …”

Upon hearing those words, Harry changed his tactic and ripped the paper off, relishing in the satisfying tearing sound. Inside he found a plain, black box with a lid, which Harry gingerly removed.

Harry would never have guessed what would be found in the confines of such a nondescript box. Inside, resting upon some gold and silver tissue paper, Harry’s eyes landed on a sexy silicone double-ended dildo. It was a tasteful purple color, but Harry noticed they were realistic phalluses—one end of the dildo was slightly smaller, but nevertheless artfully ribbed. 

“You like?” Dray asked, and pressed a hand to Harry’s trousers, which were obviously tented.

Harry bit his lip and nodded.

“So...what have you got in mind?” Harry asked, removing the dildo from the box, and stroking it, considering his own fantasies with his early Christmas present. It was flexible. Harry liked that.

“Well…” Dray said, “You might be interested to know...that I’ve taken one of those potions today.” 

Harry’s eyes widened and his mind went... so many sexy places. Harry felt his face grow hot, imagining all the beautiful positions they could fuck in with this luxurious toy.

They hadn’t done much experimenting yet when Dray had a vagina, but they’d been talking about it non-stop ever since Dray had discovered a gender-affirmation potion that alters some of your sexual characteristics for a limited amount of time.

“I haven’t even told you the best part.”

Harry let out a chuckle, “You can’t possibly tell me there’s more to this…”

Dray joined in Harry’s laughter, “Oh, yes there is. It’s charmed—with an adjustment and thrusting spell. The reviews say it isn’t perfect, but a huge improvement over the muggle vari—”

Without waiting for Dray to finish, Harry clutched the box under his arm and clasped Dray’s hand, pulling them both quickly to their feet, and disapparating them with a  _ crack.  _ They reappeared instantaneously in the bedroom, Harry still clutching the box under one arm and holding Dray’s hand in the other.

“Stand there. In the middle of the room,” Harry ordered, his dom voice prompting Dray to quickly obey, her body already shaking with anticipation.

Harry placed the box on the edge of their bed and turned back to face his lover, the loveliest decoration in all of Grimmauld Place. And she was all his for the taking…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The smut is cumming I promise ;)


	18. Once Upon a Christmas Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Dray attempt to have a Christmas quickie before their guests arrive--but due to distractions they might very well be late for their own party…
> 
> Tags/Warnings: trans/gender fluid Draco (Dray, pronouns she/her in this scene), Gender Affirmation Potion, BDSM, Dom Harry, Sub Draco, discipline, subspace, Draco Malfoy in lingerie, sex toys, double ended dildo, teasing, cunnilingus, squirting, emotional sex.

“You look stunning.” Harry couldn’t help but lick his lips in anticipation of what was to come, and he saw Dray shiver again.

He slowly made his way from the bed and back to Dray, who was still standing in the middle of the room, beautifully submissive.

“Close your eyes.”

Dray did as she was told, and Harry decided to enjoy her from all angles, circling around her. He knew his footsteps must be disorienting to the wix, but she kept her place.

Harry whispered in Dray’s mind:  _ You’re so good, my sweet princess.  _ He noticed how Dray nearly opened her eyes in astonishment at the unexpected presence of Harry in her mind, but quickly regained composure.

“Yes, you are such an obedient princess, aren’t you? You may respond.”

“Yes, sir. I want to be good for you.”

“And that pleases me. Now. Please open your eyes.” Dray did. “As gorgeous as you are, my love, I think it’s about time we take this off. I want you to strip—slowly. Now.” Harry said as Dray’s hands flew to the cape at her chest.

Dray’s hands slowly unbuttoned the faux fur. Harry couldn’t stand waiting. “Stop,” he demanded, and Dray did, slightly startled. “Too slow. Hands at your sides.”

Dray complied, her eyes glazed, obviously sunken into subspace already. 

“Permission to speak, sir?”

Harry grinned. “Permission granted.”

“Please don’t rip anything off of me today…this dress—”

“That’s enough,” Harry cut her off. “You’ve made your request. And your request will be granted. If—” Harry quirked an eyebrow, “you remain a good girl. Now, you can do that, can’t you?”

Dray’s eyes lit up and she smiled nodded vigorously and straightened up, as if to better show Harry how good she could be.

Harry stroked the soft white fur around Dray’s chest with the back of his fingers. It tickled his skin and Harry sighed at the feeling, slipping his fingers to the hidden buttons at the back and undoing them, one by one.

Dray whimpered as Harry slid the fur down her skin, letting it hit the floor with a soft  _ swoosh _ . This revealed the scarlet red dress, hugging Dray’s hips, which Harry’s hands immediately enveloped. He gently caressed her sides, her back, her now bare arms, and relished every second their skin was in contact.

“Lie on the bed.” Dray maneuvered herself deftly in her heels and lay down on the bed, her head propped up against their decorative pillows.

Harry pulled off his shirt in one swift movement. Starting from the edge of the bed, he inched his way towards Dray, whose labored breaths and needy little moans made his cock harden even more. Dray arched her back, and attempted to spread her legs wider under the gown, but before she could move, Harry’s fingers spread across her ankle. He could hear and feel both his and her heart pounding in his own chest, their magical signatures vibrating and intertwining together at the touch. 

Harry made sure to trace every inch of skin on the way up Dray’s body, starting with her calves. He sweetly kissed that tender spot behind her knees and Dray shivered in response, a mewl escaping her lips. Harry continued, replacing his hands with his lips and pushing the skirt of Dray’s gown up as he went. Soon, Harry saw what he had only caught a shimmery glimpse of downstairs.

Dray was wearing delicate red panties, the same intense scarlet as her gown. They were made of eyelash lace and had two triangle cut-outs to the left and right of Dray’s…

Harry couldn’t hold back a shiver. He’d only seen Dray’s beautiful pussy on three previous occasions--seen, not touched.  _ But now,  _ Harry thought with a dirty smirk,  _ I finally get to really explore and play with this new part of my sweet and sexy lover. _

Slowy, so as not to startle Dray, Harry touched the bare skin of her hips, now free of the gown.

Dray’s breathing accelerated and became shallow.

“Shall I touch you here?” Harry asked, his eyes meeting Dray’s.

“Y-yes,” Draco whispered. “More than alright. It feels...so nice.” Harry realized that there were tears of joy forming in Dray’s eyes at the thought of Harry interacting with her like this, in this body. He broke from his original intention to make his way slowly up Dray’s body, and brought himself face to face with her. Harry kept his body pressed to Dray’s, balancing on one hand while placing the other on her cheek. Dray pressed into it, nuzzling Harry’s palm and the tears soaked into his skin. 

“Please…” Dray begged. “Please keep going.”

“I will, my prince, don’t you worry.” Harry leaned in, pressing his lips to Dray’s for a brief moment, relishing the tingling sensation as they kissed.

Harry’s hand skimmed back down to the panties, and stroked his thumbs in small circles about Dray’s hipbone. His fingers trailed off to explore the skin of Dray’s arse, and to Harry’s pleasant surprise, found that the panties left most of her skin exposed. He splayed his hands across Dray’s bare arse. It was so soft and smooth, as always, but there was a slight curvature that was different in her body today. Though the body felt distinctly Dray’s, it now felt new and exciting as well. 

Harry very gently pressed his fingertip over the panties near the bottom of Dray’s pussy, close to her perineum. 

Dray whimpered at the touch, arching her back. “Yes,” she sighed. “More. It’s good.”

“Spoiled princess,” Harry whispered, and added a tiny bit more pressure, causing the wix to gasp.

“Mmm, Harry...sir...you’re so good to me.”

“I always am, my little princess.” 

“Yes, you are, sir…” Dray trailed off, sinking slightly deeper into subspace as Harry caressed the length of her pussy over her panties, occasionally sinking his finger, still through the silky barrier, into her hole or brushing that bundle of nerves at the top. Whenever Harry came close to Dray’s clit, she made incomprehensible moans— sounds that Harry had never heard before, but made him feel hot and aroused. His cock was pressing firmly against his trousers, he decided it was time for him to take them off. Too busy stroking Dray’s pussy to undress himself, he mumbled a charm which banished his clothes back to the closet.

“May I kiss you here, little one?” Harry asked, his fingertip moving slightly quicker now from top to bottom. 

Dray let out a shaky moan. “Yes, please sir!” It sounded almost like a whine, and in another circumstance, Harry might have scolded her. But this was different.

Instead, he very slowly and deliberately slid his body down and settled his elbows between her thighs. Her panties were damp, and Harry kissed Dray tenderly on top of her hole. 

Dray mewled and panted. Harry glanced up at her and noticed she had closed her eyes to better savor the feeling. As he kissed the lace covering her pussy, Harry caught a whiff of her scent for the first time. It smelt slightly of copper and something so distinctly Dray, that Harry found himself immediately enraptured by the scent, inhaling it deep into his lungs.

“You enjoying yourself?” Dray asked. Harry smirked against her pussy and kissed her with more pressure over her clit.

Dray let out a tiny cry which she stifled into a moan. “Ff-fuck, Harry,” Dray whispered, her voice shaking. 

Harry pressed his lips, still over Dray’s panties, around that tight bundle of nerves and hummed.

“Oh, my….Merlin, that….that’s good. Please, Harry, don’t stop.” 

Harry responded to Dray’s respectful request by intensifying his hum.

Dray let out another guttural moan before spluttering, “I want to feel your tongue on me, Harry. Sir, please...I want your tongue on my clit...in my pussy. Please--”

Harry waved his hand and deftly banished the panties to the bedside table, nice and folded, waiting to be put on again.

He stuck his tongue out at a slight curve and grinned at Dray who was staring at him with her soft grey eyes which were practically bulging out of her head.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Dray begged. “Please lick me. Sir. Please, sir.”

Harry gave a nod and returned to Dray’s pussy. As slowly as he could muster, so as to enjoy every millisecond, Harry licked from the bottom of her slit all the way to her clit.

In addition to savoring the taste of Dray’s exquisite pussy, he relished in the rich, sultry and litingly sweet sounds emitting from Dray’s mouth, which were music to his ears.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” Dray continued to beg, though there was no need. Now that Harry had tasted Dray’s pussy, he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

He slowly picked up speed, experimenting with different movements of his tongue, listening carefully for any cue from his lover as to what patterns to remember and securely tuck away for future use.

Soon, Harry had thoroughly explored every centimeter of Dray’s pussy, his chin, cheeks, and upper lip a bit messy with her juices. He pulled away slowly and lifted his eyes to meet Dray’s. But they were still rolled in the back of her head. Harry grinned. “Dray?” He whispered, and his princess blinked her eyes towards him and smiled back, utterly in pieces. 

Harry glanced downwards to gesture at the juices all over his face. “You want a taste yourself?”

Instantaneously, Harry felt Dray’s heartbeat accelerate through their bond. 

“Yes,” she said and started to raise herself. Harry lifted his hand to stop her and she receded. It was important to Harry that Dray didn’t overexert herself. Last time Dray had experimented with the gender affirmation potion, she had had some issues with vertigo. 

He crawled up Dray’s gown which was bunched around her tummy and beneath her breasts and stopped, his face hovering just two inches above Dray’s. He waited.

“Kiss me.” 

The words came out in a tiny whisper, and Harry’s heart swelled.

He closed the gap between them and kissed the other wix tenderly and with as much love as he could summon through their bond. Dray felt the extreme influx of emotion and returned in kind, the wixen hovering as if in antigravity in the energy of their magical bond. In fact, they’d actually levitated a centimeter or two off the bed. After a few seconds that felt like hours, they released each other and floated gently back to the bed, sinking securely into the mattress. 

“How do you taste?” Harry asked, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of Dray’s hair behind her ear.

She responded instantly. “Like me. I taste like me.”

Harry had to bite his lip to hold back the overwhelming emotion that crashed over him hearing Dray say that about herself. Of course, his reaction wasn’t lost on Dray, who has still immensely tuned into his magical signature.

“Oh, honey...I’m fine--” Dray reassured, reaching up to stroke Harry’s face with her long, slender fingers. Harry noticed the scarlet red nailpolish for the first time on Dray’s almond-shaped nails. She was so beautiful. And he was so lucky. He loved Dray so intensely in this moment. It was Harry’s turn to press his cheek into his lover’s hand and submit to the comfort she offered him.

“Now…” Dray said, “I’m doing fine. I love you. I love what we’re doing. And I don’t want you to stop.” The last words came out in a lusty whisper.

The mood shifted and Harry’s cock reacted instinctively to Dray’s words and her needy tone.

He wanted her to know how much he loved her. On any day. Whichever names, pronouns, body they wanted and felt themselves in any given moment. 

“So...where did you put your Christmas present?” Dray wiggled her eyebrows. 

Harry chuckled. He stayed where he was and stretched his arm backwards towards the foot of the bed where he’d placed the dildo, purposefully flexing his muscles in a way he knew would get Dray panting. Harry took the dildo and placed the box on the floor. It was a miracle they hadn’t knocked it off yet if he was being honest.

Harry summoned lube from their bedside table with a flick of his wrist and caught the container.

Dray shook his head. “You’re suck a fucking show-off.” She was grinning and laughing, so it took Dray completely by surprise when Harry suddenly pinched her thigh. 

“Ouch!” she shrieked and then narrowed her eyes at Harry who was looking at her sternly, his dom face back on. Upon noticing Harry’s switched role, she struggled to hide her giggle and keep a straight face, relaxing her eyes into a respectful gaze of adoration.

Harry bit his lip, also attempting to hold back a laugh and stay in the moment with Dray.

After a few seconds, he’d got enough control of himself that he could raise one eyebrow and ask his princess, “Are you ready?”

She nodded, “Yes, sir.” This pleased Harry and his cock stirred again, quickly hardening. 

He pressed some lube onto the dildo and spread it around nice, slow, and even, without breaking eye contact with Dray. It was then he noticed—she was still in her Christmas gown.

“We don’t want this getting ruffled right before the party, do we?” Harry asked and Draco shook his head, biting his lip in a way that drove Harry wild.

With a flick of his hand he had banished Dray’s outfit to the closet as well, hanging nicely next to his own trousers. 

The sight of Dray’s breasts in the second part of the scarlet red lingerie set was enough for Harry to drop the dildo, mid-stroke. Dray laughed and groaned in half-amusement, half-frustration at Harry’s distraction.

Harry cast a nonverbal  _ scourgify _ on his hands to remove the lube and cupped his hands under both of Dray’s breasts to admire the cami-top bra. The eyelash lace was so tantalizingly thin, leaving nearly nothing to the imagination around Dray’s areolas. The floral design was impeccable. Harry lightly traced his right thumb over the area where he knew Dray’s nipple lay under the lace.

Dray whimpered and shook under him. This was enough for Harry’s cock to become fully erect, pressing against his and Dray’s stomach as he lay on top of her, straddling her right leg. 

“Stunning,” Harry said, and Dray flushed. “You are absolutely gorgeous. The most beautiful princess in all of the land--”

“Oh-shut-up-already-and-fuck-me-pleeaaaaaasssseee!” Dray whined. Harry’s eyes opened, momentarily shocked still by Dray’s sudden outburst of bad behavior.

“I neeeeeeed you!” Dray begged, “Sir, please. Please, I want to feel the dildo inside of me.” Her grey eyes reflected the desperation in her pleas and Harry wanted oh-so-much to take pity on her. But she was being such a bad girl, interrupting Harry’s admiration of her breasts.

“Silence.” Harry’s voice was soft, firm, and Dray stopped at once. It looked as if she were pressing her lips together hard to prevent herself from speaking.

“I will fuck you when I am ready to fuck you,” Harry explained calmly. “Do you understand?”

Dray’s eye twitched but she nodded once, shakily. 

“Say it.”

“I understand, sir.”

“What do you understand?”

Dray inhaled sharply as if to sigh but quickly stopped herself and let the air slowly escape her lungs. “I understand that you will fuck me when you are ready to fuck me.”

“Very good. Such a good little princess you can be. Sometimes.” Harry flicked his wrist and removed the bra cami-top, having it appear directly on top of Dray’s perfectly folded panties.

Harry flicked his tongue on Dray’s fully erect nipple, releasing a moan from the blonde, who writhed beneath him, arching forward to try and get closer to Harry’s mouth. 

_So hot_ , Harry thought. “Don’t move,” he ordered, and Dray stilled with a whine-turned-moan.

Harry wrapped his tongue around the nipple and licked nibbled, kissed and sucked it to the rhythm of Dray’s mewls. He slowly brought his leg up to rest against Dray and pressed it gently against her pussy. She was soaking. Harry glanced down to see her juices running down his leg. 

“You’re so wet for me,” Harry said, the excitement evident in his voice at being able to say that for the first time.

“Yessssss,” Dray said, “...ssssir,” she added after a short pause. “Yes, I am wet for you, sir.”

“You really want me to put this inside of you, don’t you?” Harry retrieved the dildo from where he’d dropped it on the bed and brought it in front of Dray’s eyes. She gazed at it longingly.

“Yes, sir. I really do want you to put this inside of me. Please, sir.”

“Very well. I believe you’ve been patient enough... Your wish is my command, your highness…”

Dray shivered and grinned at the loving words from the cheesy as all hell Gryffindor. 

Harry took some more lube to make sure the dildo was still well prepared for Dray’s fresh, beautiful pussy.

Harry placed the smaller end to Dray’s pussy. “Ready?”

“I was born ready,” Dray said, grinning. Harry returned the smile and gently slid the dildo in. 

The effect was instantaneous. Dray’s breathing became shaky and her hand reached out to clutch Harry’s free hand. She squeezed and Harry squeezed back. “You’re still good?”

“I’m great. Please. Don’t stop.” Dray stroked the back of Harry’s hand with her thumb and Harry continued pressing the dildo in—one inch,two inches— 

“Ooooooh!” Dray called out. Harry paused at the foreign sound. 

“Good or bad?” he asked.

“Oooooooh,” Dray moaned again. “Good. So good. Green, Harry. I’m—I’m good…”

Harry slowly continued to press against that one spot that was causing Dray to make all these sexy moans and gasps. 

“Harry...I’m...I’m…” Dray flushed.

“Are you now? Already?” Harry teased and ceased his movements.

“Oh  _ Potter,  _ you fffff--” Dray said, his annoyance at the other wix at odds with his desire to be respectful and not insult his dom. 

Harry laughed at the internal struggle he was causing his lover.  _ But it would all soon be worth it. _

“You did say this was  _ my _ gift after all…” Harry began. Dray nodded slowly. “I think it’s only fair we use both ends before you get to cum. What do you think?”

Dray mumbled something under his breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Harry pressed, grinning and feeling his cock twitch at the power-play.

Dray raised her voice and said clearly, “I think you’re right, s _ ir. _ ”

“Tell me I’m always right.” Harry bit his lip to hold back the laugh that threatened to escape. He just had so much fun with Dray when they had sex, he sometimes had a hard time staying in his strict dom role.

Dray bit the inside of her cheeks in an obvious attempt to control her own smile that threatened to spread across her face and break the tension.

“You’re always right,” Dray said, and upon hearing those words, Harry slid the tip of the other end against his own slick entrance. Dray’s legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer. He eased the dildo inside of him and groaned at the unfamiliar feel of the silicone. 

“Feels great, doesn’t it? Sir…” Dray said, her smile getting the best of her.

“It really does,” Harry admitted, and palmed his cock with one hand. He held out his other for Dray to take, which she did.

“So...you mentioned some sort of...thrusting charm?” Harry asked with a quirked brow.

Dray nodded. “ _ On _ ,” she said, and all of a sudden the dildo began to gyrate. They moaned in unison, both surprised at the immediate pleasure the charm had given them. Harry slipped his hand off his cock, picking up precum on his way to reach for Dray’s other hand. They held hands tightly and rode the wave of pleasure as the dildo thrusted inside them. 

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna come, Har--sir--” Dray said and Harry began to rock his own hips to match the magical toy’s thrusts. 

“Don’t forget to ask permission,” Harry warned. 

Dray moaned, begging loudly, “Oh please, Harry, sir, can I come? I’m so close...I want to come with this toy inside both of us...moaning your name...Please, Harry?”

The words were enough to bring Harry to the edge. “Come now, Dray. Come for me and moan my name as you do.” 

Dray complied, and came in the next second with a guttural: “Harrrryyyy!” Harry let go too, ejaculating into the air, come splattering his and Dray’s chest. He noticed Dray was squirting—a watery substance was flowing from her pussy, around the dildo and onto the bed sheets. Dray was so wrapped up in her orgasm, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, that she didn’t even seem to notice.

“My love...look.” Hearing Harry’s voice, Dray opened her eyes and glanced down at where Harry was looking—the purple dildo inside both of them, the watery fluid still gushing in short bursts from Dray’s pussy. 

“Fuck. I’m squirting. That’s...that’s…” Dray struggled to find the words, especially when being overcome by the unstoppable urge to moan and ride out the orgasm as long as possible.

“It’s unbelievably hot, is what it is,” Harry said, and licked his lips, lightly brushing his fingertips over his spent cock as he watched Dray finish her orgasm.

Finally, Harry noticed Dray’s body relax and he reached out quickly to support her extra weight as she fell heavily into the bed, completely drained.

“That was—that was—” Dray was trying to catch her breath.

“Shhh,” Harry shushed her. “You don’t need to talk yet.” He slowly released the dildo and placed it gingerly on the floor—there was a big mess to clean, but that was future Harry and Dray’s problem. 

Harry joined Dray at the head of the bed and held her to his chest. She tried to wrap her arms around him, but was too weak, so Harry lifted them for her and Dray gratefully relaxed her weight into him.

They lay still, their breathing and heart rates returning to normal, enjoying the after-glow and scent of sex suffusing the entire room.

“What time is it?” Dray mumbled sleepily. 

Upon hearing the question, Harry snapped back to reality. “Oh  _ fuck. _ ” He cast a quick  _ tempus, _ and his eyes widened. “It’s already  _ eight _ .”

“ _ No _ !” Dray said and instinctively attempted to raise herself up. She soon remembered her lack of strength and almost instantaneously settled back into Harry.

“Shh, don’t worry--”

“Don’t  _ worry?  _ There’s bound to be guests here already. At least Neville, Ron, Hermione, Blaise….and I can’t even stand!” She let out a burst of nervous laughter. “This is absurd.”

“They’ll understand,” Harry reassured her.

Dray snorted. “I know, but still...it isn’t something one does...be late to her own party because she couldn’t keep it in her pants.”

“We’ve done this before, remember New Year’s, 2000? You thought Molly was going to have a heart attack when we arrived two hours late to the burrow. After our detour to see the London Eye, all lit up and beautiful, remember? We almost missed George and Ron’s fireworks!”   
  
Dray flushed. “Yes, I remember, ” she reluctantly admitted, “They laughed and teased us relentlessly all night long for “celebrating the New Year early.” You left out that little detail where you’d given me an enormous hickey on my neck. I’m still mad about that by the way.”

“Lies,” Harry said, giving her a knowing smile.

“I’m very mysterious, you don’t know everything about me,” Dray said, feeling a bit of strength return and propping herself up on her elbow to look at Harry.

“As much as I doubt that, we don’t have time to go into this right now. We have to call Hildegarde and see what’s going on downstairs. I’ll make sure she knows we’re—er—in a precarious position.” 

Dray nodded and covered them with the blanket before Harry called, “Hildegarde?” There was a  _ crack  _ and the house elf appeared, carrying a tray of spiced  _ Glühwein  _ in fancy glassware. 

“Hello, Masters. Are you ready to join the  _ party _ ?” She eyed them in mock judgement. Harry loved the playful relationship and banter the two of them had with the house elf, and he knew Dray appreciated the change from his own childhood.

“Just about, Hildegarde,” Harry chuckled. “How many people are here?”

“Neville has been here for 20 minutes and Hildegarde has had to entertain the man. I is knowing nothing about herbology, sirs, and the discussion has been particularly difficult to follow.” She rolled her eyes and smiled, “Such a kind wix though, funny, too. Oh, yes, and for the last five minutes I has been preparing drinks for Ron, Hermione, and Blaise, who all arrived together.”

“See? Just as I said,” Harry said. “Thank you, Hildegarde. Would you please tell them we’ll be down in ten minutes and we appreciate their patience? They are welcome to all the biscuits and mini-pies—”

“Masters, do you really think Hildegarde has left the guests to fend for themselves?” She gave a haughty sniff. “I is a proper house elf who knows how to entertain guests when her masters are...preoccupied.”

Harry met Dray’s eyes and couldn’t control the bubble of laughter that erupted from his mouth, Dray following suit.

“Masters _ , ten _ minutes,” Hildegarde rolled her eyes but grinned amusingly at them. “Your guests await. Here: take these--” She left two glasses of Glühwein on their bedside table.

“Thank you, Hildegarde,” Dray said sincerely, reaching for a glass. 

“You’re welcome, Mistress Dray.” And with a  _ crack _ Hildegarde disappeared, returning to the guests.

Harry reached for his own glass. Though the drink was warm, Hildegarde had some pretty nifty house elf magic to keep the glass from burning the drinker’s skin. He took a sip.

“Mmm…It’s perfect. Just like our trip to the  _ Adventmarkt am Karlsplatz _ ,” Harry said. 

Dray took one last slip and placed her glass down again. “I agree. Hildegarde has outdone herself this year.” She drew the blanket back, revealing her naked body, Harry’s cum already dry on her chest, and her cum in the process of drying on her pussy and thighs. She stood up, and Harry admired her elegant and soft form.

“Time for a quick rinse,” Dray said, winking and headed to the en-suite bathroom.

Harry called after her, “I’ll wait here.” 

Dray turned on the shower.

“SO AS NOT TO DISTRACT YOU!”

“SOUNDS GOOD TO ME, POTTER!

Harry chuckled and turned his gaze to the bedside table where Dray had placed her  _ Glühwein.  _ Behind it was a framed photo of the London Eye: taken on New Year’s Eve, 1999, during their detour to the Burrow to ring in the new millenium. 

They stood kissing on the brick path which was illuminated in white and blue lights, the London Eye in the background standing tall and magnificent in all its pride and glory. 

“DRAY?!” He called loudly over the sounds of the shower coming through the open door to the bathroom.

“WHAT NOW?!

“I LOVE YOU!”

Though he couldn’t hear it, Harry felt through the bond that Dray was laughing.

“I LOVE YOU, TOO!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this smut chapter ended up being over 4K, WOW. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it with the help of my Betas <3 xo
> 
> It is Days 18 AND 19 of Draco and Harry as it took me so long to write it bahahahaha xD Let me know what you think! ;)


	19. An Unexpected Christmas Gift, Part Two (Christmas Crackers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a couple weeks since Draco proposed to Harry (See: Chapter 6 "An Unexpected Christmas Gift") and they’ve been keeping it secret for a big reveal at the first ever Malfoy-Potter Christmas Party. Little does Dragana know that Harry has something up his sleeve to stir up the friendly Christmas Cracker competition they’ve got going on...
> 
> Tags/Warnings: trans/gender fluid Draco using a variety of names and pronouns throughout the scenes (Draco, Dray, Dragana), fluff, Christmas fluff, Christmas present

(Image: Traditional English Christmas Crackers—cylindrical presents tied with string on both ends.)

(Two images of a femme white person with brown hair past their shoulders wearing a tiara and a silver necklace. They are modeling a royal blue gown. For a complete description, please read the story!)

**

_If you want to go all out this Christmas, then these Wixmas Crystal Christmas Crackers are sure to impress. They come either as a set of six and include one item of jewelry in each cracker (including cufflinks, earrings, bracelet, brooch, necklace, or charm) or you may also customize your crackers with your favorite Wixmas Crystals. They come packaged in an equally as sparkly cracker case and tied with bows for a classic finish._

Harry had been staring at the _Quibbler_ advertisement for days—the magazine would have been badly crinkled if it hadn’t been printed on smudge and wrinkle resistant paper.

He’d had the idea shortly after Draco had proposed to him. They were already planning on telling everyone about their engagement at their first ever Christmas party as a couple. It was astounding they’d kept the secret this long already—Harry finding it very difficult to remember to remove the ring from his finger whenever he left the house. He’d ended up having to set up an alarm on his wards to remind him to take it off if he stepped outside to work or to visit friends.

Harry and Draco were planning how best to tell everyone they were now engaged and had been constructing an elaborate reveal for their first ever Christmas Party.

Now, the two wixen’s competitive streak had only got worse since they’d gotten together. They were always trying to best each other at something—the best hot chocolate, the best date idea—and now Harry had had the brilliant idea to stir up a little competition around the Christmas crackers they would be providing for their loved ones.

**

_Flashback to one week ago, Harry and Dragana (she/her)_

\--

“You’ve got to be joking,” Dragana said.

“No, I’m perfectly Sirius... _‘s godson_.” Harry bit his lip to hide a grin.

Dragana rolled her eyes and groaned. “Again?”

“It’s my favorite joke!”

“I know, you tell it five times a day.”

“So not true—”

“Anyways! Harry, do you really think you should oversee the Christmas crackers?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t say that.”

Dragana narrowed her piercing grey eyes at him. “You just said your Christmas crackers would be better than mine, ‘no if’s, and’s, or but’s.’ Sure sounds like you want to take the reins, Santa!”

“Dragana, sweetheart. Calm down.”

Dragana flared her nostrils but did take a deep breath and wait for Harry to explain himself.

“I’m just suggesting a friendly…competition. To see whose Christmas crackers our guests like more. You don’t know—I could end up surprising you. And if I don’t, and they’re bloody awful, you win. You get to oversee the Christmas crackers every year until we die. Sound good?”

“Not the dying part—”

“Malfoy,” Harry cut her off, “Do we have a deal?” he offered his hand.

Dragana raised an eyebrow and smirked, taking her fiancé’s hand and giving it a firm shake.

**

Now Harry stood inside the shop “Wixen Crystals,” reading a sign about their Wixmas Cracker Specials.

“May I help you, Mr. Potter?” A kindly elderly wix was blinking at him from behind large spectacles, bedazzled with different colored crystals: blue and silver. _Perhaps they were in Ravenclaw at Hogwarts_ , Harry wondered.

“Yes, please,” Harry said with a broad yet shaky grin. “I am looking to purchase two sets of Wixmas Crackers from you but—er—for one of them I’d like to…customize it?”

The wix’s eyes sparkled like their bedazzled spectacles. “Oh, I see! May I ask for whom the cracker will be, Mr. Potter? A family member…a friend…a lover, perhaps?”

The crystal seller flushed pink, as did Harry. Harry hadn’t been very public about his love life, but it was public knowledge that he and Draco were in a relationship of sorts. Despite his embarrassment he couldn’t help smiling and leaning forward. “Yes, it is indeed for a lover.”

“Oooh hoo hoo!” The wix exclaimed and clapped excitedly. “Congratulations, Mr. Potter.”

“But, please,” Harry said as a thought occurred to him. What if this wix blabbed to the Prophet or other paparazzi that Harry Potter had ordered something for his lover? “I need you to keep this transaction a secret,” Harry explained. “It’s a surprise.”

“Oh, but of course, Harry Potter,” the wix said, nodding fiercely. “All our sales come with a privacy guarantee—we even sign a binding contract.”

Harry sighed in relief. “That’s excellent to hear, thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Mr. Potter,” the wix leaned closer, their eyes enormous behind their spectacles. “It is the law. A law I stand firmly behind.” A grin spread across their face, and Harry returned it, excited to finally look at all the beautiful jewelry around him.

“Have you got anything…”

**

“ _Potter!_ Where are you?!”

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. “Dragana, you know very well I am in the _en suite_ bathroom getting ready for our Christmas party.” He continued checking himself out in the mirror, ensuring his hair was still in place from the new potion he was trying out.

 _Click-clack, click-clack_ came Dragana’s heels as she strode across the bedroom and into the bathroom as Harry turned to look at her.

She was radiant in her long royal blue sweetheart gown. The strapless bodice sparkled with crystals in an intricate and stunning beaded design, transitioning into a full tulle skirt, beads trickling down it.

“Turn around,” Harry asked, but it didn’t sound like a question.

Dragana huffed and put her hands—which were covered in arm-length silver gloves—on her hips.

“Are you ready yet?”

“I’m nearly ready, yes, my love. Please. Will you turn for me?” Harry bit his lip and spoke in his sweetest voice.

Dragana’s face flushed but she dropped her arms and spread them in front of her as she did a slow twirl. Harry’s mouth dropped in awe as his eyes caught sight of the blue ribbons lacing up the back of the bodice.

“You’re absolutely beautiful,” Harry said when Dragana had completed her twirl, arms still outstretched.

Dragana’s face, which had been a light pink, turned scarlet. “Thank you,” she mumbled, and stepped forward, welcoming Harry into her arms.

“You’re nervous,” Harry said. This wasn’t a question—he felt it in the way her heart pounded in her chest against his.

“I’m fucking terrified that’s what I am,” Dragana admitted.

“Everyone who is coming already knows Dragana’s coming. They’re expecting you.”

“I know. I know. And I want to show them how amazing I am, I’m just…not sure…if I’ll be successful.”

Harry shook his head. “Sweetheart, we have already succeeded. Come.” They released each other. “Let’s go down together.” He held out a hand for Dragana who took it, steadying herself. She then interlaced her fingers with Harry’s. The silk gloves between his fingers whispered dirty promises and Harry shivered. “I’m so happy. Tonight is going to be momentous!” Harry exclaimed as they turned to make their way down the hall, down the stairs, and to the main floor.

Dragana raised an eyebrow.

“S-i-r-i-u-s—ly,” Harry said. “Molly still cannot believe that I have stolen Christmas from her, but she has no idea how magnificent and magical the first Potter-Malfoy Christmas party is going to be.”

Dragana giggled. “Especially with the Christmas crackers I’ve chosen for everyone…”

Harry mock-scoffed, “Excuse me? You really think you have a chance against me?”

Dragana renewed her laughter. “Ha! Yes, I really do, sweetheart. In fact— I bet you.”

Harry stopped abruptly causing the two of them to lose balance and Dragana to trip on her tulle skirt.

“ _Potter!_ ” Dragana snarled. She scooped the skirt up with a flourish and inspected it for harm. Seeing nothing, she huffed and let it fall. The tulle floated back down to the floor and Dragana punched Harry in the arm.

“Ouch!”

“Do you know how much I love this dress?”

“I’m sorry, I was just taken aback is all. What did you say?” Harry had definitely forgotten by now.

Dragana sighed and placed her hands on her hips and Harry’s cock twitched.

“I was saying: I’m willing to bet you that our friends and loved ones are going to go absolutely rogue Bludger when they receive _my_ Christmas crackers. Whatever you have got, no matter how hard you may have tried, will ever live up to what I’ve got in store.”

Harry bit his lip, flushing. “I wouldn’t count your Snitches, my little prince…” His voice was soft and Dragana had to lean in to hear him properly.

When she’d caught the words, raised her eyebrows, “I’m quite confident, _sweetheart_. And I do bet you. I bet you…one wish.”

“A…wish?”

“You heard me. Whoever ends up having the most beloved Christmas crackers not only gets free reign for every future Malfoy-Potter Christmas Party—”

“Mm-hmm?”

“—but is also entitled to one wish to be granted by the LOSER,” Malfoy’s lips rounded saucily around the letters of the word “loser” and Harry’s cock twitched again—he imagined her lips in a round “Ohhhhhhh!” around it.

“Are you even listening to me?” Dragana was snapping her fingers to get Harry’s attention.

“Of course, I am,” Harry consoled her. “One wish. Okay! I’m with you there. The loser has to grant one wish for the person who’s Christmas cracker is the most marvelous, the most magnificent, most magical—”

“Potter, for fuck’s sake, we both get the picture. Now shake on it.”

“Not this time,” Harry said. “Kiss!”

Dragana rolled her eyes, but placed her hands on Harry’s cheeks, leaning in to give him a deep, sloppy, contract-binding smooch.

**

“Beloved friends and family, wixen of all ages!” Harry held his tumbler of Firewhisky up in a toast and the glass reflected the twinkling fairy lights which illuminated the dining room of Grimmauld Place.

He and Dragana had agreed he’d be the one to start the speech. They were going to do it now, just before handing out the Christmas crackers. It was time to tell them all that he and Dragana were engaged. Harry stood next to his chair and looked down in adoration at their friends and loved ones: the Weasleys and Fleur, Andromeda, Teddy, Narcissa, Blaise, Luna, her father, and Neville.

“We have come to a very special moment of our evening together,” Harry commenced. “I am very pleased you have all chosen to celebrate Christmas with me, with us.” He placed a hand on Dragana’s shoulder, and she lifted her own hand on top of his, giving it a tender squeeze. “As you all know, this is our first Christmas party at Grimmauld Place.”

“First?!” Mrs. Weasley squealed, her fork clanging to the floor. Ginny and Ron who were sitting on her either side and shushed her. Mrs. Weasley turned pink, mumbled an apology and gestured for Harry to continue speaking.

Harry cleared his throat so as to give the guests a chance to hide their own laughter with hacks and coughs at carefully curated interludes.

“We are honored that you have chosen to spend Christmas with Dragana and me as we celebrate many new transitions and traditions in our lives together. We moved in together six months ago, and at first, I must admit, it was a little tough—”

Dragana jumped in. “Well, with a house that hadn’t been redecorated since the 80s, I really had my work cut out for me.”

“I’ll say,” Narcissa, Andromeda, and Molly said in unison, causing a burst of laughter to ripple across the table. Grimmauld Place had definitely gone through a massive transformation in the months since Dragana had moved in.

Dragana continued, “I’m sorry, but I have to admit I loathed visiting him here! He just refused to change even the dreariest old curtain.” As laughter rang out again, Teddy clapping along this time, Dragana squeezed Harry’s hand, and shared with him a memory through their bond. It was of the two of them sorting through Sirius’ possessions in his old bedroom.

_“I just don’t want to get rid of anything accidentally that really meant something to Sirius,” Harry had said._

_“If it doesn’t spark anything in you when you hold it right now, you can let go of it,” Dray had responded, “I promise. It will be okay. Just thank it—and let it go.”_

Harry smiled, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he turned to face his lover and mouthed, “Thank you.”

Dragana returned the smile and nodded, her silver eyes shining with love. 

“Anyways, anyways!” Harry said, and his slightly elevated voice encouraged their guests to quiet down. “Dragana and I are truly embarking on a life together, and…like stories…life is full of unexpected twists and turns.”

Dragana frowned slightly at the words; they hadn’t been the ones they’d discussed, but they sounded well enough to her and she quickly readjusted her face into a soft smile.

“And…Dragana does not know this yet. But—”

Dragana’s jaw dropped, all suspicion rushing back instantaneously. “Potter, what have you done?” she asked, trying to mask her horror as their guests laughed at the Christmas drama unraveling in front of them.

“Our relationship has always been about competition.”

“You can say that again!” Ron shouted and George high-fived him as Neville chuckled besides them.

“And this year we decided to compete and see who could come up with the best Christmas crackers for you all—our loved ones.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this, Potter!” Dragana said, anger flaring in her silver eyes. “It’s totally cheating.”

“Wooo, Team Harry!” Ron called and Neville repeated, “Yeah, Harry! What’d you get us?!”

The rest of the guests laughed at the frivolity of the young wixen.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll get your Crackers soon,” Harry reassured his school friends. “But first—” he flicked his wrist and summoned a beautiful Christmas cracker from the gift table. The paper was silver and glittery, small puffs of magic swirling around the ribbons tied on each end. “I have a special Christmas Cracker for you, my dear Dragana.”

The wix’s jaw dropped again, equally surprised at the breaking of tradition. They hadn’t discussed exchanging personal Christmas Crackers—Dragana had probably suspected they would just choose any which were left after the guests had chosen.

“Harry…” Dragana said carefully, “What is going on here?”

“Dragana,” Harry said, and their guests laughed at his testy tone. “I love you. Now trust me. Take the Cracker.”

The room had fallen silent, obviously sensing the mood shift and Dragana slowly reached for the ribbons on the Cracker, untying the knot with a gentle tug. In that instant, the paper disappeared—a white Christmas rose was in its place, and at the center of the rose rested a radiant deep blue oval-cut sapphire set in a white gold band. At its appearance, gasps rang out throughout the room, but Dragana’s eyes were fixated on the ring. The jewel was held in a prong setting, encircled by fourteen white round diamonds.

Harry watched as realization dawned on Dragana’s face and tears sprang to her eyes. He used the opportunity to get down on one knee.

“Dragana. There are a million reasons why I love you. But I’ve come up with eight. Don’t ask me why eight, that’s just how the math worked out, alright?”

A couple guests let out a chuckle and then Harry continued. “You are the most determined and cunning person I have ever met. But you’re also incredibly brave and honest. You are inquisitive. Patient. Loyal. Trustworthy. And kind. You are more than that pompous Slytherin prat you were at Hogwarts. You are…soooooo complex—”

Harry gestured at all of Dragana in a slightly clumsy fashion and she couldn’t help but let out a laugh and emotional sniffle.

“And so am I. And our lives and our love are so complex and I know that…with you I’ll never be bored. You’re witty, clever, humorous, and terribly dirty-minded, I don’t think anyone here knows that, but it is _bad_ , my friends, her mind is like an—an untamed lioness who needs a lay _right now_ , you know what I’m saying?”

Dragana swatted him with her hand, but there was no snarl behind the bite as the guests shared uncomfortable groans and laughs.

“Move this along, mate!” George shouted along the table

“Yeah, we’re STARVED,” Ron added.

“Fuck off!” Harry lovingly narrowed his eyes at the two of them and the room burst into shocked and embarrassed laughter once more.

“My dear, sweet Dragana. I love you, Dray, and Draco, and accept who you are with all of me. You're the one I wanna be in competition with. You’re the one I wanna chase. The one I wanna hold. I always knew there was something special about you, even as we skirted around this at Hogwarts. And to you, my love, I will always be faithful. I want us to be to each other what we always needed. I want you… and your beautiful soul.”

Dragana’s tears were flowing freely down her face and she wasn’t alone. Harry’s face was far from dry and as he glanced around his guests, everyone was crying with them except for George and Ron who were openly weeping and attempting to hold each other up in their seats.

Dragana shook her head in disbelief at the situation—then realized what she was doing in response to Harry’s proposal and stopped mid-shake. “I can’t believe you fucking did this. _Prat_. My make-up is all messed-up now.”

Guests snorted and mumbled, “Same.”

“Well?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Well, what?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Draco Lucius Malfoy…would you do me the great honor and become my spouse, to chase, to hold, to cherish till death do us part?”

Dragana rolled her eyes in response, “It’s not the wedding yet, you realize that, don’t you?”

“JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION, DRAGANA!” George shouted, and a chorus of, “Yeahs!” echoed him.

“He knows the answer!” Dragana laughed, “You _arsehole_. You made the best fucking proposal, and I really thought I had topped the charts. I thought there was nothing better than that Nutcracker. Fucking _Gryffindor.”_ Dragana was shaking with anger—but also pure joy at Harry’s absolutely _perfect_ proposal.

As the entire story started to unfold, the room rang out in wild laughter.

“YOU TWO ARE ABSURD, YOU KNOW THAT?” Hermione shouted over the ruckus.

“WE KNOW!” the two of them shouted back.

“You never answered me you know,” Harry said, putting on a fake pout in Dragana’s direction.

“Yes, you _beautiful-loser-infuriating-utterly-wonderful_ Gryffindor. I will marry you.”

The dining room rang out in a chorus of cheers as Dragana tugged Harry off the ground and crashed her lips to his, sealing their engagement for a second time, pouring every ounce of love and trust into Harry, and feeling her fiancé return in kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 20 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry and WOW. Who knew? Who knew?! Jesse McCartney. He knew. But I sure didn't xD


	20. The Best Christmas Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry are house-sitting for Bill and Fleur at Shell Cottage throughout December while the other couple is on holiday in France. Whilst Draco is reminiscing about his own Christmases and childhood at his family’s château, he is startled by an eager owl pecking at the glass window. It’s a surprise gift from his mother. And Harry already knows what it is…
> 
> Tags/Warning: trans/gender fluid Draco switching between names (Draco/Dray/Dragana) and pronouns (he/she/they), Christmas Fluff, Christmas Traditions, brief mentions of the Second Wizarding War a couple years after the fact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Day 21 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry! I hope you love the allusions to the Christmas Rose tradition from my December Drarry Drabble <3 xo

(Image: Bill and Fleur’s Shell Cottage seen from the front with a stone pathway leading up to a wooden door. The side of the roof faces forward as well, and there are two triangular windows on the ground floor in the walls, with two more windows above both on the roof. In the middle of the roof are two more smaller windows on top of each other, and on either side of the roof there is a tall chimney.)  
  
  


(Image: Prompt 21, a bedroom showing the foot of a bed with a white sheet. For a further description of the room's decorations, please continue reading the story!)

  
**  
  


Draco woke up to the sound of the ocean’s crashing waves. He immediately looked over at Harry, who was still deep in slumber, a small dribble of drool just starting to roll over his lip and down his chin. Grinning, Draco whispered, “You’re such a baby,” and brushed his lips to Harry’s forehead. The other wix didn’t stir, holding tightly onto the soft, red, crisscross patterned blanket they’d found hanging in the guestroom. Draco had elected for the blanket which was white, woven, and made of wool. He pulled it over his nose now, which always seemed to be the only part of Draco that was  _ always _ cold.

His gaze shifted towards the foot of the bed, landing on an adorably simple fake Christmas tree twinkling with golden fairy lights. Above the tree, hanging on a nail from a single strand of hemp string, was a decorative piece of parchment. Upon it was written: “We are so good together.”

It was so cheesy. And one-hundred percent the sort of thing to be found in Shell Cottage. Bill and Fleur were wonderful decorators, and had elected for a sweet, over-the-top, go-big-or-go-home cottagecore style. Draco and Harry were house-sitting the other couple’s isolated and beautiful Shell Cottage on a cliff overlooking the sea on the outskirts of Cornwall. 

Bill and Fleur had decided to go to France for Christmas this year, so Fleur could spend the time with her mother and sister, Gabriella. Fleur had been an amazing sport in embracing the huge Weasley Christmases, but she missed her own family and traditions on the actual day. They’d decided to go for a full two and a half weeks, hoping to make as many memories as possible.

Draco grinned. He had related to that significantly at the family party on All Hallows’ Eve. Bill and Fleur had announced they’d be spending a large chunk of the holiday season in France this year. Molly would have dropped her pudding, save for Bill’s ever-ready summoning charm.

Draco missed his holidays in France as well. His family had a  château in _ Loir-et-cher _ .  It wasn’t foreboding or full of haunting memories like Malfoy Manor, and he longed to see it again. He had not been to France since the summer before third year. Holidays at the  château had been a Malfoy family tradition, but the Triwizard Tournament and Voldemort’s return had ruined that year’s trip. That was five years ago, and they’d not yet had the chance to pick tradition back up. Draco empathized with Fleur, also keen to return to one of his childhood homes. Maybe next year.

He had such fond memories of him and his mother tending to the little garden—in particular the winter-blooming Christmas Roses. They grew at Malfoy Manor, too, but looked more foreboding. The roses at their home in  _ Loir-et-cher _ provided a much brighter, Christmas-y feel. Mother much preferred to make her Christmas wishes at the  château in France . Draco shut his eyes, allowing the memory to wash over him.

_ “One should plant a Christmas Rose at every residence, my dear son, so its magic may bless you and all who live there. But you only get one wish, so don’t be afraid to pick a favorite.” His mother winked at him. _

A loud pecking on glass startled Draco out of his memory. Harry jolted awake and ran to the window. An owl waited, attempting to hold itself upright, a brown box wrapped with a brown string tied in a bow in its beak.

The window shot open as Harry reached towards it and the owl flew in to drop the parcel into Harry’s waiting hands.

“Thanks,” Harry whispered to the owl and pet the soft feathers on its head. The owl cooed and nibbled at his finger affectionately.

Draco felt his heart flutter at the kindness Harry showed the creature. He’d always been especially fond of owls.

When the bird took off, Harry shut the window with a wave of his hand and turned back towards the bed.

“Ah!” Harry startled to see Draco awake and looking at him. He fumbled the package, but caught it just in time.

Draco made an undignified squeak in response, just as shocked at Harry’s reaction to him. At hearing Draco’s squawk, Harry burst out laughing.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he said, gasping for air. Draco’s eyes narrowed and Harry caught his breath.

“I am! I just… didn’t know you’d be there. Like, awake already, I mean,” Harry said with another burst of laughter.

“Cut it out, Potter, it’s not that funny.” Draco’s cheeks began to flush.

“Sorry,  _ Malfoy _ , but it is! That squawk…” Harry placed the package on the fluffy white chair next to the window and wiped a tear from his eye. “Classic. Just classic. Like one of your mum’s white peacocks startled out of its wits—”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Draco huffed. “Oh, for Mer—Merlin knows why I love you. Now get over here with that package. What is it?”

“It’s a surprise. From your mum.”

Draco raised his eyebrows.

“You’re not serious?”

“I’m not. I’m his Godson.”

Draco groaned and rolled his eyes. He’d walked right into that one and couldn’t fault Harry for taking the opportunity. Draco regained his composure.

“Open it,” Harry said, his excitement radiating out of every part of him.

“You know what this is!”

“I most definitely do. Come on, hurry up!” He placed his hands on Draco’s knees, holding him as Draco lifted his index finger and made a sharp movement upwards in the air. The brown string snapped and Draco reached forward to undo the spellotape on the edges. He could feel Harry’s excitement through the bond. “Stop touching me, you’re going to spoil the surprise!”

“Sorry!” Harry pouted, moving his hands away and stepping about a foot backwards, hoping to not inadvertently send any images telepathically to Draco about what was in the box.

Finally, Draco was able to lift the lid. Inside, he found a weathered grey and white speckled plant pot. It had a sleek, tapered silhouette and engraved on one side were the words “ _ La Belle.”  _ As he read the words in his mind, his lips subconsciously mouthed them and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Draco, what’s wrong?” Harry’s hand was back on his knee in an instant. The thought rushed through the bond and echoed in Draco’s mind.  _ You haven’t even read the note inside yet. _ Draco was too preoccupied by the meaning of the words on the outside of the pot to be able to consider the note Harry was thinking about.

“N-nothing is wrong,” Draco got out. “It’s just…Oh, Harry…” Teardrops fell from his eyes, and Harry squeezed his knee. “These words…it’s French for ‘The Beautiful,’ but she wrote  _ La _ , not—” Draco’s voice cracked, and he couldn’t finish his thought.

Harry did for him. “That’s… the feminine spelling? Isn’t it?” Draco nodded, still incapable of speech.

Harry wrapped his arms around his lover. “She loves you. She loves all of you, sweetheart.”

Draco took a couple deep breaths and swallowed hard. “She does. And this is the perfect way she could have told me that.”

“Is it?” Harry asked. “You haven’t even looked inside yet.”

“Ah, yes, I heard your thought earlier about a note?”

Harry flinched., “Whoops. Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay, you didn’t loudly think what the note actually said. Now, please move again. Not that far! Okay, that’s good.” Draco reached into the planter and took out the note. Across the front, written in beautiful script was his name—one of them:  _ Dragana. _

As the tears threatened to form again, Draco opened the card.

_ My dearest child, _

_ A Very Merry Christmas, my darling. I know you must be shocked to see this package arrive so late—on the actual day of Christmas—and yet so early (Pearle should be arriving just before dawn, if all goes according to plan). _

_ This planter, my dear, is not just for your new home and garden in Grimmauld Place. It is also a Portkey. It will activate at 10:00 a.m. there in Cornwall to take you and Harry to me at the  _ _ château.  _

_ I would love to spend a few hours with you this morning and I can give you and Harry some cuttings from the Christmas Rose bush—it is still as beautiful and magical as ever. _

_ All my love, and I will see you soon! _

_ Mother _

“You knew?” Draco whispered when he was finished reading. He looked up at Harry who reached forward, finally allowed to touch Draco again now that the surprises were revealed.

“I did.”

“How long?”

“Only a few days.”

“Still, I am amazed you kept this a secret.”

“Me too. I had to distract myself with really sexy thoughts of you to get my mind off your mother’s surprise.”

“Ahh. So that’s why I thought you were exceptionally horny.”

“I mean… you weren’t wrong.” Harry stuck his tongue out playfully. “So…I assume we’re going to France, right?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “I just have to—”

“Everything’s packed!” Harry swiped his hand in the direction of the closet where there were a few small bags, presents for his mother and her house elf. Harry always bought gifts for house elves. They worked so hard to prepare the house for the holiday season. Harry’s thoughtfulness always sent Draco’s heart fluttering and reminded him of how deep his love was for this magnificent wix.

“But what about—”

“I’ve got Christmas biscuits and some  _ Glühwein _ under stasis in a basket in the kitchen.”

Draco thought for a moment. Surely, Harry couldn’t have remembered  _ everything _ . ”And the flowers?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Come on!” He took Draco’s hand and dragged him to the kitchen, levitating the gifts behind him as they went. The prettily-wrapped packages floated along, following them down the hallway.

Pictures of the Weasleys (including Harry, Draco, and Hermione) and Fleur’s family hanging on the walls watched the odd spectacle with curiosity, leaping into each other’s frames and making their way to the kitchen as well. The kitchen also served as the dining room with one full Weasley family portrait hanging above the table. Bill and Fleur had had it painted as a gift for each Weasley and Delacour during the week leading up to their wedding. It had been a slightly traumatic experience, trying to have everyone get along and give up on preparations to sit for the portrait, but in the end, everyone was grateful to have the memory. Especially given how the wedding had ended.

On the dining table, Harry saw the intricately woven basket filled to the brim with tins of cookies and jugs of  _ Glühwein.  _ Next to it was a magnificent bouquet of fragrant lilies and red roses in a white ceramic vase.

“How many—”

“There are twenty-five,” Harry reassured.  _ An odd number, and a pretty Christmas-y one at that.  _ The thought traveled through the bond and Draco, upon hearing it in his mind, relaxed immensely.

“You really  _ did _ think of everything.”

“This isn’t all.” Harry waggled his eyebrows.

“Excuse me?”

Harry waggled his eyebrows again.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Potter, just spit it out.”

“Well, you see I had this idea. A plan. A  _ scheme _ , as a Slytherin such as yourself might call it.”

“Any plan of yours is indisputably a scheme. Continue.”

“I figured that if I got everything ready early, and the package would arrive before sunrise…then we would have at least two full hours to ourselves for a little…Christmas fun.”

Draco smirked. “What sort of Christmas fun did you have in mind?”

“Well…I don’t know if you’re up for it, but you know those long satin gloves you were wearing the other day…” Harry traced a finger up the length of Draco’s arm and imagined the smoothness of the royal blue long satin gloves Dragana had been wearing at dinner two nights ago as he transferred the image to Draco through the bond

As it appeared in Draco’s mind, his smirk turned into a wide grin. “You’re asking if Dragana might put on her gloves for you, aren’t you Harry?” they asked, voice deep and rough with lust.

“If she’s excited about it, too…”

“Oh, I’m very excited, Harry,” Dragana said, and placed Harry’s hand on her developing erection. Harry’s heart pounded in his chest. “You wait here…” Dragana placed a long finger on Harry’s lips and then traced them—first the upper than the lower. Harry’s tongue peeked out and licked the tip of her finger once. Very slowly. “…and I will go get those gloves. You think you can wait for me?”

Harry nodded quickly, his hair bouncing with the eager gesture.

Dragana giggled and kissed Harry on the nape of his neck, causing the man to shiver.

“I’ll be back…” Dragana turned on her heel, thrilled at the prospect of spending two hours teasing Harry in an isolated cottage, and then spending Christmas morning together at their château. It truly was going to be their best Christmas ever.


	21. Just Kiss Me Again, Loser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s date night! In Hogsmeade? Harry muses about where Draco might be taking him and he’s stunned when they arrive…
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Trans/Gender Fluid Draco Malfoy (Draco, he/his in this scene), Christmas Fluff, Christmas in Hogsmeade, Established Relationship, Surprise Date.

(Image: A quaint village of wooden houses with triangular roofs. It’s snowing, and snow covers the rooves and street, which is empty except for several footprints in the snow. One house has a metal sign attached of a witch brewing a potion in a cauldron.)

**

“Where are we going?” Harry asked, entwining his fingers with Draco’s.

In a dripping, sickly-sweet voice, Draco sang: “Oh, just a little place I like to call ‘I’ve-already-told-you-it’s-a-secret-a-million-bloody-times- _ Potter _ .’”

Harry rolled his eyes. Draco had taken them to Hogsmeade for their Thursday night date. Given their work schedules, it was particularly difficult to find a day that worked for both of them. Though Thursday date nights weren’t very traditional, neither were Harry and Draco. So, it became official; every Thursday evening the two of them arrived home at 6:00 p.m. on the dot, showered, and prepared for their date. The two wixen alternated who organized the adventure, and this week it was Draco’s turn.

“I’m simply curious why—of all the places— you’ve decided to take us here, to Hogsmeade. On a Thursday evening with nothing going on. What could possibly be so interesting?”

“You’d better stop complaining or I might have to cancel the reservations,” Draco narrowed his eyes in mock annoyance, but Harry wasn’t fooled, and quirked an eyebrow. “I  _ see _ ! So, you have made reservations, that’s a pretty good clue, that is… Wait. Nowhere in Hogsmeade takes reservations!”

Draco chuckled and allowed the other wix to continue musing aloud.

“If there’s nowhere that takes reservations then you’re probably just trying to throw me off the scent.” Harry gasped, an idea dawning on him. “Or you really HAVE made a reservation, and this is a super fancy place that’s hidden somewhere underground!”

Draco suddenly stopped walking.

“That’s it, isn’t it? I’ve guessed it! Oh, is it one of Blaise’s? He’d mentioned a vague curiosity of opening something here in Hogsmeade, but I thought it was just a joke, to be honest—”

“Harry! We’re here.”

Harry noticed Draco was standing in front of a shop. A tea shop. The sign read “Madam Puddifoot’s,” though it didn’t look like the same pink monstrosity Harry remembered.

“You’re…joking.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “I most certainly am not.”

“You know I have bad memories here…”

“And?”

“And…well…it kinda messes up the vibe of the date, doesn’t it?”

Draco shook his head. “Stubborn Gryffindor. Look!” Draco pointed to the lovely brown-wood exterior and a shiny metal sign that jutted off the side of the wall, depicting a witch stirring a cauldron. There was magical blue steam bubbling in the cauldron and floating in whisps to form the words “Best Witches’ Brew!”

“Does this look like the same place you went to with Cho Chang in Fifth Year?” Draco asked, patiently.

“No,” Harry grumbled.

“No. So do you think perhaps the inside has changed as well?”

“It’s a…possibility.”

“Please, Harry.” Draco turned to him. “You know me. I know you. Do you really think I’d purposely plan a date that you would hate?”

“Yes,” Harry answered truthfully.

Draco’s eyes widened in shock and then, noticing Harry’s grin, he had to smile as well, shaking his head. “You, prat.” He leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on Harry’s lips.

Draco felt Harry’s magic swirl around them as snow began to gently fall. “You  _ always _ do that.”

“It’s romantic!” Harry retorted.

“It’s cheesy as hell is what it is.”

“You love it.”

“I’d never confess it.”

“You already have.”

“No witnesses. Can’t prove it.”

“Just kiss me again, loser.”

And Draco did, pouring all his love for Harry and the excitement of being there with him into the kiss. Harry kissed back with just as much feeling, and when they separated, the two were slightly dizzy from the exchange and rested their foreheads together as they caught their breath and grounded themselves with the Earth once again.

“Ready?”

“Born ready.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Let’s go,  _ loser. _ ” He winked at Harry and the two stepped across the threshold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Day 22 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry! It's the beginnings of a super fluffy wonderful date in Hogsmeade <3 xo I promise, one day soon we will have more of this date!


	22. Serendipity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is on his traditional Christmas Eve walk when he serendipitously runs into Harry, Ron, and Hermione ice-skating. Draco has gone through a lot of significant changes in the past three years since the war and his trial where Harry spoke for him—and he’s now ready to tell Harry the things (at least some of them) that he’s been keeping secret since he was eleven years old... 
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Confident Draco Malfoy living his best life, medicinal and recreational marijuana use, years-long pining coming to fruition, so much love and fluff, Draco helped Harry during the Battle of Hogwarts (throwing Harry his wand, etc.)

(Image: Prompt 23, an outdoor ice skating rink surrounded by a string of fairy lights. Dozens of people are dressed warmly and skating in a counterclockwise direction. There is a Christmas tree lit up in the middle and the surrounding trees around the rink are wrapped in fairy lights, up and down the trunks and branches.)

**

The first time Draco saw Harry after his hearing, a good three years later, the former Gryffindor was ice-skating with Weasley and Granger.

It was a totally random act of serendipity. Draco had just been wandering around the park, high as a kite (as had become tradition on his evening walks). Others might think it was a little sad that Draco was walking around high and alone in a crowded place on Christmas Eve. But honestly, Draco was feeling _good._

He was finally happy. He’d started smoking marijuana around 9 months ago, and since then he was able to get out of his depression slump, and tackle the things that had been terrifying him for the past two years. Things like finally following his dream of becoming a Potions Master. He was in his first year of an accelerated two-year program, thanks to the expertise lent to him in private lessons with Severus Snape. 

Everything was _finally_ going to plan, and while Draco didn’t attribute his success to the pot itself, it had helped him through the low points. Now, he was even able to do things high and sober and compare the experiences. It was easier for him to imagine a daily routine where he wasn’t high most of the time. It was going to take a while, for certain, but he was transitioning from using pot to help him function day-to-day, to a creative tool in his potion-making. 

He knew that by the time he met someone— probably sooner rather than later— and decided to settle down and have a family, he would have more tools in his toolbox. 

His life was going brilliantly. And he was even starting that heart-wrenching, soul-twisting process of forgiving himself for the mistakes he made in his youth and healing from the trauma of his childhood and the war.

Draco had gone off on a tangent with his thoughts—that happened when he was high, but he had also gained so much progress it made those temporary dazed moments worth it. He’d been thinking how it was a totally random act of serendipity, seeing Potter there on the ice with Weasley and Granger. They were obviously enjoying themselves immensely, giggling like First Years in the Hogwarts courtyard during the first snowfall of the season.

It was then that it hit Draco like an onslaught of multiple _stupefy_ spells . He saw _his_ face. Surrounded by dozens of other skaters on the ice rink—whether muggles or wixen, Draco didn’t know or care. He only had eyes for Harry. And Harry was beautiful. Absolutely _beautiful._ It was the truth. He honestly couldn’t recall ever having been so taken away by Harry’s beauty before. Of course, at Hogwarts, Draco had always thought Potter was stunning, wicked hot, and breath-takingly sexy depending on the day and his level of arousal. But today…he caught Harry’s eye and the wix stopped laughing with his friends, his eyes widening and jaw dropping in utter surprise.

At any other time in his life, Draco would have been uncomfortable with the reaction and the subsequent reactions of Weasley and Granger. But now, he saw the comedy in it—as much of a shock as it was for him to see Harry here, it was probably just as startling for Harry to see his former “archenemy” turned ally during the Battle of Hogwarts.

Draco had always meant to keep up with him. Send an owl at Yule or something…but he never did. And then, eventually, it was too late. He’d missed his window, and Harry obviously hadn’t seemed interested in kindling any sort of friendship following the trial or _he_ would have said something.

But then…why was Harry grinning? Why was he gesturing for his friends to look in Draco’s direction? Why were they all prodding him with encouraging looks on their faces? Why was Harry shushing him and turning bright Gryffindor scarlet? Why was he grinning at Draco slowly raising a hand to give a shy wave?

A cluster of Snitches whooshed from Draco’s chest to the pit of his stomach. It _…_ It _couldn’t_ be. Harry was making a beeline for him. Why?

Draco tamped down his nerves and excitement swirling inside him, the Snitches threatening to escape. He smiled and made to meet the former Seeker halfway. 

He had a plan. He was a Slytherin. He always had a plan. A scheme. He was going to tell him he looked beautiful, laughing in the snow. Yes, it was a strange way to start a conversation after not seeing each other for three years, but something told him it would be okay. Something inside him was urging him to just take the leap, and say at least some of the words he’d been keeping to himself since he was eleven years old. Some words he was sure to hold back….but Draco had been wanting to confess this since he’d first seen Harry in Madam Malkin’s that fateful day in Diagon Alley. The day he fell in love with the Boy-Who-Lived and was destined to pine after him from that moment on. All in secret—until now. Until this moment.

Draco’s life was brilliant. His love for himself was so much purer than it had been in his school-age years and even in the year after the war. Now, he was bursting with love and ready to give some of it to someone else…and he was sure he knew who that someone else was, as he looked at Harry’s bouncy, wild black hair and lightning bolt scar making their way towards him across the ice. He was an angel. Draco laughed at the cheesy thought—but it was true. Harry smiled when he saw Draco laughing and the two finally reached each other, approximately two feet of ice still between them. Draco had walked onto the rink in his trainers, he’d been drawn in as if by some magnetic force surrounding the other man. When he met Harry’s eye, the former Gryffindor raised his eyebrows. “You are fucking high, right now, aren’t you?” he asked, amusement colouring his words.

Draco renewed his laughter, and Harry joined him, shaking his head in disbelief. “A Malfoy, really? In public, like this?” Harry’s tone was light and playful.

“Honestly, it’s done wonders for me—smoking pot I mean, not being in public,” Draco clarified, and Harry’s laughter rang in his ears again. It was one of the most amazing sounds Draco had ever heard.

“Same, same,” Harry said. “I mean, when the psychiatrists don’t give a shit about you and nothing seems to actually work against the anxiety except the cannabis, you do what’s right for you, you know?”

They’d barely been speaking for 60 seconds, and both Draco and Harry had revealed something quite personal about themselves and their mental states. Their miraculous ability to be open and raw with each other so immediately did not go unnoticed by either of them, and they both blushed.

“So…what are you up to?” Draco asked. He remembered his scheme, sure. But he had to lead up to it; it was only logical.

“Oh, just skating with Ron and Hermione. It’s a Christmas Eve tradition of ours.”

“That sounds lovely.”

Harry’s eyes widened, obviously shocked at hearing such a word come out of his mouth. He’d always used words such as “lovely” but never in his presence.

“Would you like to…join us?” Harry invited him, and the Snitches returned to Draco’s stomach in full force.

“I—would love that.” Draco nodded, accepting the invitation.

“You’ll need some skates…I’m sure Hermione can transfigure some for you.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Harry chuckled. “Come on.” He reached out his hand to Draco, who took it, his heart pounding in his chest.

Harry was about to lead him back towards Weasley and Granger when Draco said, “Harry?” Draco felt breathless. He was going to say it. And they were still holding hands.

“Yes? Er…Draco?”

He dove in. “I was watching you, laughing there with your friends in the snow, and—” Draco trailed off and took a deep breath, regaining the courage to complete his thought. “And you looked beautiful.” A thought occurred to him. “You still look beautiful, now, of course!” Feeling he was absolutely done for, Draco continued digging himself a bigger hole, “Not just now! I mean in general you do, too, I just meant…specifically just now you looked—”

Harry was biting his lip, trying unsuccessfully to suppress his laughter as Draco stumbled over his words and rambled away, confessing much more than he’d expected. _This was not really the plan._ Draco had to laugh at himself—grateful he was at a place in his life now that he didn’t have to die in embarrassment but could enjoy this little blunder. Not very Slytherin-like, he had to admit. Draco rolled his eyes at himself.

“Well, fuck it, I’ve already mucked that up!” Draco said, and gave Harry’s hand the slightest of squeezes. “You look totally stunning. And, might I also add, even if it’s a little too much, you look a bit like an angel. There I said it! There’s no taking it back now,” he finished, slightly giddy.

Harry’s laughter stopped suddenly, the genuine meaning of Draco’s words dawning on him for the first time. Draco’s heart seemed to stop dead in his chest at the same time, awaiting Harry’s response.

Harry said nothing, but swept Draco’s blond hair back with his free hand. It had grown exceptionally long in the last months, as Draco had no desire to cut it, enjoying the longer style.

“You’re the one who’s like an angel, Draco,” Harry said, “And I can’t believe you’ve got me saying this. It’s so cheesy, _Merlin.”_ Harry shook his head, but he was grinning from ear to ear. “You’re beautiful, too.”

“It’s true.”

Harry’s eyes widened in shock once again and raised an eyebrow, “Same old Malfoy, then?”

“Haven’t changed that much.”

“Yes, you have,” Harry said, seriously. “So have I.”

“I know.” Draco nodded. “We have.”

They were silent for a moment and Draco became highly aware that they were still holding hands — which were growing ever warmer — in front of dozens of strangers, as well as Weasley and Granger. He was also aware of how _good_ it was and felt as though they were in their own private world in the midst of the crowd.

“I think…it’s too early to kiss,” Draco said, quirking an eyebrow. “But I’m here to tell you— I’m definitely feeling the urge.” He winked, and Harry’s expression became even more adorably flustered.

“Fuck proper timing,” Harry mumbled. Draco wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly, so he asked the other wix to repeat himself. “I said FUCK proper timing. When has the timing ever been right for us?”

Draco felt tears well up in his eyes as a grin spread across his face. “Too right, Harry…” And he kissed him. Draco gently pulled the other wix closer to him by their entwined hands, and Harry happily obliged, closing the distance between them. Draco was slightly taller, and he relished the fact that he got to enjoy Harry looking up at him in adoration for a brief second before their lips touched.

“Wooooooo!” Came a shout from the center of the ice rink. They released each other and turned briefly to look at who had shouted—and of course it was Ron. Hermione was jabbing him in the ribs. “I mean, come on Hermione, it’s _finally_ happened, we’ve all been saying—”

But Draco didn’t listen anymore. He and Harry turned back to each other, and Draco found himself enraptured by those deep emerald eyes. He knew he’d inevitably have to blink again eventually and come back to reality, but for the moment, he focused on connecting with Harry, baring his heart, mind, soul, and magic for Harry to peruse in his silver-grey eyes. The other wix responded just as bravely, allowing his feelings to be reflected in his own eyes.

Draco wished he could live in this moment forever. But that was what Pensieves were for—and now, it was time to go ice skating. A former Slytherin with the Golden Trio going ice-skating on Christmas Eve...and it all started with one magical moment of serendipity. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 23 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry! Love the prompt, reminded me of the movie "Serendipity." I was also listening to James Blunt's "You're Beautiful" on repeate while writing this xD <3


	23. I Saw Maddy Kissing Santa Claus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ted really wants a Firebolt 360 for Christmas. So much so, he’s convinced his five-year-old brother Scorpius to sneak downstairs with him under the guise of trying to catch a peek of Father Christmas with their presents…
> 
> Tags/Warnings: AU where Draco and Narcissa had a master plan to break alliances with Voldemort and join the other side during the Battle of Hogwarts, Teddy P.O.V., “Ted” is 15-years old and a Gryffindor, Scorpius is five-years-old, Teddy and Scorpius brothers, Harry Potter was adopted by the Weasleys, trans/gender fluid Draco (Maddy is what the kids call them and they are referred to with different pronouns).

(Image: Prompt 24, Santa Claus in his traditional red suit with a long white beard putting gifts under a Christmas tree wrapped in gold and scarlet bows.)  
  
**  
  


Ted put his finger to his mouth. “Shh! Scorpius, you don’t want them to catch us, do you?”

Scorpius glared at the older wix and said in a loud whisper, “Swytherins are naturawy steawthy.” He stepped on a particularly noisy floorboard that let out a long  _ c-r-e-a-a-a-a-k. _

Ted’s eyes widened in surprise as Scorpius whispered, “Whoops.” Ted put his hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh. 

“That wasn’t very Slytherin, was it?”

“Oh, be quiet, Teddy!” Scorpius pouted, as the five-year-old did whenever Ted teased him about the potential of not being a Slytherin like his Maddy. 

“Hey, Scor?”

Scorpius ignored Ted, his arms crossed in front of him, his lower lip turned over and chin jutted out in a stubborn expression.

Ted sighed. “I’m sorry I made you upset. You know…you could still be in Gryffindor like Daddy. And Daddy’s really cool, too!”

Scorpius harrumphed.

Ted sighed in frustration at his little brother. They were never going to get downstairs to sneak a peek at the presents. He just HAD to know if he was getting the new  _ Firebolt 360 _ . It was all he’d been thinking about for months, and all he’d written home about the first months of his Fifth Year leading up to Christmas, so he hoped his parents had taken the hint.

But Ted just couldn’t sleep, not knowing. He’d convinced Scorpius to sneak down with him under the pretense that they might catch Father Christmas in the act. Then, if they  _ did _ get caught, he could use the younger wix as a scapegoat and no one would know how impatient he was.  _ A Malfoy never shows their impatience. _ Ted snorted at the thought. It was something Grandma Cissy said, but his Maddy was probably the most impatient wix Ted had ever met.

“Come on,” Ted said, getting down to his brother’s level. “You don’t want to miss Father Christmas, do you?”

Scorpius’ face turned sharply back towards Ted. It was as if he’d forgotten all about their mission. “No!”

“Shh!” Ted reminded him.

Scorpius screwed up his face and nodded.

“Okay. Let’s go…”

The two of them tiptoed down the staircase of Grimmauld Place, Ted taking extra care to point out the squeaky steps.

“I know!” Scorpius mouthed, rolling his eyes at Ted, who bit his lip to keep himself from laughing again. His brother was so adorable, trying so hard to be Slytherin through and through, when he was sure Scorpius would end up anywhere  _ but  _ their Maddy’s old house. Though Scorpius looked like a pint-sized version of their Maddy, their demeanors were so different—must be the completely different upbringing.

Maddy grew up in a totally different time, in between two wars that raged across Great Britain during the 90s. Maddy’s parents, and even Maddy themselves for a time, actually ended up serving the fascist Lord Voldemort. Though Grandma Cissy served some time in Azkaban, she was released after only a year thanks to Daddy speaking at her and Maddy’s trials.

It wasn’t a secret in the Malfoy-Potter household, or in the world for that matter, that Ted’s Maddy and Grandmother had turned against Lord Voldemort at the end of the Battle of Hogwarts, as they’d masterfully been planning together for months. 

Scorpius tugged on Ted’s Christmas jumper— Gryffindor scarlet and gold, knitted by Gram’a Molly. He was pointing at the living room, a glowing light shining through the gap in the doors.

Ted nodded sternly to his brother to walk from the foot of the stairs, s-l-o-o-o-w-l-y and carefully towards the living room, where it seemed that maybe, just maybe, they would be catching Father Christmas in the act. Ted had to smile when Scorpius nodded sternly back, nostalgia rushing through him. He’d done the same thing when he had been Scorpius’ age—sneaking downstairs to catch a glimpse of Old Saint Nick.

But…if Father Christmas was here, it was important it was Scorpius who did the sneaking, as he was the child and all. He’d be more easily forgiven for getting caught…and wouldn’t incur Maddy’s wrath for “spoiling Christmas.”

Scorpius crept closer to the door and tentatively reached out to grab the doorknob to balance himself. Ted trailed behind him.

Slowly, but surely, in respectably-Slytherin fashion, Ted had to admit, Scorpius peeked through the crack in the door with one eye, grinning as he caught sight of the Christmas tree.

Eager to see, Ted flattened himself against the wall and held out a hand, grinning when Scorpius’ finger touched his. They’d discussed the plan in Scorpius’ bedroom—the littlest wix would ensure that the tree was in his line of sight, and Ted would use  _ Legilimency  _ to see what his brother saw. Ted wasn’t that skilled at  _ Legilimency _ yet, but his Maddy had started teaching him over the summer and had even given him a couple lessons since arriving home for the holidays. Ted swore that by touching his brother’s hand it was easier to see the image that appeared in his mind.

He found himself being able to tap into his brother’s head more easily than usual. Before he could be surprised, however, Ted recalled his Maddy telling him that their natural magic was stronger on and around Christmas than on regular days of the year. From toddlerhood, his parents had taught him to tap into his magic at different times of the year and month to observe how he, as a wix, felt different depending on the weather, the sun, moon, and planets. Of course, he wasn’t allowed to  _ use _ any magic at home as he was still underage (unless under the strictest supervision) but it had helped him excel at Hogwarts.

Ted wanted to learn as much as possible during his seven years at Hogwarts, and even wished there were time-turners still in use. He’d heard stories throughout his childhood of Aunt Hermione in third year trying to double her course load. Even  _ she _ admitted that she’d overestimated her capabilities—but she had also told Teddy in secret that she believed he would have been able to pull it off. 

The compliment made him swell with pride, and he started taking private lessons with different teachers. Ted was even at the top of his class. Well, except for this one know-it-all, pompous Slytherin nobody could stand _._ Other students assumed he took the extra classes to graduate earlier, which couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

Ted had no intention of leaving Hogwarts any sooner than he had to—these were the only seven years he had to learn everything he could. Sure, he’d have the opportunity to train for whatever career he wanted later in life, but to have access to this massive historical library and the minds of renowned professors such as Neville Longbottom—he’d never have this chance again. His dad often chuckled that he was too much like his Aunt Hermione in some ways, but Ted took it as the biggest compliment in the world. 

Now, if only he had the fastest broomstick,  _ too _ . He would show that good-for-nothing cheating Slytherin! They wouldn't stand a chance against Ted in the next Quidditch match...as long as his parents --or Father Christmas--had gotten him the new  _ Firebolt _ !

As Ted touched his brother’s hand, he saw the most magical sight and his brother let out a nearly inaudible gasp. Father Christmas was there alright—dressed in his traditional red suit, a brown belt, and gloves. Ted nearly let out his own gasp when he saw the sparkle of the silver buttons in the firelight.

Father Christmas was not alone, however. Coming into Scorpius’ line of sight was Maddy, in her blue nightgown, and she was leaning in to give St. Nick a kiss on the cheek. She then poked him in the side, whispering something neither Scorpius nor Ted could hear, but Father Christmas laughed. And then, the jolly man himself was leaning down with a strangely wrapped gift in his hands—it was long, and became slightly thicker about the end. 

_ THE BROOMSTICK! _ Ted shouted in his head.

“OW!” shouted Scorpius. He lost his balance, tottered through the door and fell forward, landing on his hands. Ted peeked around behind him, hand still outstretched, his eyes wide in shock. 

_ Whoops. _ Ted hadn’t meant to shout in Scorpius’ head.  _ He’d really blown their cover _ , Ted thought, as Father Christmas and Maddy turned to look towards the commotion at the living room doors.

“Oh, Merlin. Do my eyes deceive me?” Maddy said in an amused tone."Why, Father Christmas, I could have sworn not a creature was stirring in this house when you came down that chimney.”

“It was Scorpius,” Ted said immediately.

Maddy continued as if Ted had not spoken, always the Drama Queen--she had put on a role now and no one could stop her. "Not even a mouse, my dear Teddy." Maddy took a step closer and eyed him chastisingly. "You and your brother were tucked snug in your beds with visions of sugarplums dancing in your heads."

Ted took the opportunity while Maddy took a breath to explain, "Yes, it was Scorpius! He wanted to see if we could catch…Father Christmas?”

“Well, it looks like you did catch me,  _ Scorpius, _ ” Father Christmas said. He had not turned to look at them since he'd finished placing what could only have been the  _ Firebolt 360  _ underneath the Christmas tree. St. Nicolas turned around to face Ted and his brother for the first time, and Ted met the emerald green eyes of his dad.

“Is that really,  _ you,  _ Father Christmas?” Scorpius asked, his eyes widening.

Ted saw his dad raise his eyebrows and stroke the fake Santa beard. Scorpius narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Wait a minute—” Scorpius looked from the man who looked like Father Christmas, to his Maddy, to his brother, who only had eyes for the broom-shaped gift.

“You look familiar,” Scorpius accused.

Ted couldn’t hold back his laughter this time. Their father was famous, so of course he looked familiar to everyone. But Scorpius didn’t mean that. Ted knew his little brother knew Daddy’s face as well as his own, and was putting two and two together quickly. He noticed Scorpius’ eyes trail to their dad’s forehead where half his lightning-bolt scar peeked out of the Santa Claus hat.

“So…I’m just going to…go to bed…” Ted said, taking a few steps backwards. “I think you can handle this, right? I’m going to go back to sleep, where I totally was before Scorpius begged me to come to look for Father Christmas with him…”

Maddy quirked a brow. “Right, you do that.” She grinned, coming over to Ted and ruffled his evergreen hair. “Love you. We’ll talk in the morning.” Maddy didn’t seem angry or disappointed, so Ted returned her smile with only a little caution.

“I love you, too.” He gave her a quick hug. “Merry Christmas, Maddy.”

“Merry Christmas, my darling.”

Ted headed back upstairs, pausing to glance back towards the living room, its doors now open wide, all Christmas-y secrets revealed. He grinned as he heard his parents’ low voices, followed by Scorpius’ voice ringing over theirs in a loud “Ohhhhhhhhhhh!” of realization.

As he climbed into his cozy bed, Ted found himself unfortunately reliving his own Christmas Eve adventure ten years ago when he’d caught Maddy doing more than just  _ kissing _ Santa Claus under the Christmas tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Day 24 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry and I can't believe it! ahhh there is only one more day left. Today's prompt let to this amazing Christmas fluff from Teddy's point of view and it was so fun to explore this family! Hope you enjoyed as wel <3 xo


	24. Underneath the Mistletoe Parts 1 and 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry tries to keep his cool around Draco. Spoiler: he fails.
> 
> Tags/Warnings: 8th Year Roommates!Draco and Harry, brief mentions of the War and deceased Severus Snape, SPEW re-vamped, Room of Requirement Shenanigans, party, explicit, disaster bi Harry Potter exploring his sexuality. No more spoilers—let’s just have some fun 😉

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta 1: I'M DYING AND THIS IS LIKE 5 SENTENCES IN.
> 
> Beta 2: DITTO
> 
> Me: I WAS FEELING THE EXACT SAME WAY WHILE I WAS WRITING IT. THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY
> 
> **
> 
> I hope you enjoy this final Advent gift from me to all you Drarry fans, everywhere! <3 xo

(Image 1, Prompt 25 of 25 Days of Draco and Harry: a sprig of mistletoe, tied together with a red ribbon, hanging in front of a wooden background.)  
  


(Image 2: Emerald green paisley and navy vest and bow tie on over a white tuxedo shirt.)  
  


(Image 3: A sterling silver “cuff-ring” with golden antlers.)  
  
**

Part 1: 50 Shades of Red

“So, where are we going to have this…’party’?” Harry asked, expertly hiding his true reaction to Hermione’s invitation.

Hermione went slightly pink. “I was thinking…The Room of Requirement. You know…because it’s also called  _ The Come and Go Room.” _

Harry choked on his own saliva and Hermione laughed.

“You don’t have to come  _ or even  _ go to the party if you don’t want—”

“No, no, I  _ do _ want to come! GO. GO to the party, ” Harry assured his best friend whose eyes widened at Harry’s new-found enthusiasm and laughed kindheartedly at his slip-up. “I mean. I’m not like,  _ obsessed, _ with the idea, you know me…I’m just…interested.”

“Uh huh,” Hermione nodded her brown eyes twinkling knowingly, “Interested in whom?”

It was Harry’s turn to go slightly pink. Or rather—crimson red.

Hermione’s eyes went from soft, small, and twinkling to enormous saucers that challenged even Dobby’s most intense expression. “I WAS ONLY KIDDING— OH MY GOD! Who is it? Who did I say was coming that made you so eager to come!?”

Harry instantly went Gryffindor scarlet.

Hermione actually squealed and Harry rushed away from the Common Room to the dormitories—leaving his friend to go through the guestlist one more time alone. Now, as long as his roommate wasn’t there Harry would have some time to th—

“Hey, Potter.”

Harry stopped in his tracks and sucked in his breath. Then he let it out in a cool exhale, trying to disguise the fact that Malfoy had just caught him off guard. Sitting on his bed. Doing his homework. In their dorm-room.

“Yooo,” Harry said, slyly putting his hand to the back of his hair and posing casually in the doorway. Posing.  _ Casually.  _ Harry looked down at his body. What he was doing was  _ far _ from posing. And far from casual. His body looked like the  _ Whomping Willow _ trying to reach an itchy spot. He noticed Malfoy biting his lip as he quirked an eyebrow at Harry “chilling” in the doorway.

“You…alright?”

Harry blinked in response. Even though he and Malfoy had been on friendly terms since the end of the War when they had been preparing for Malfoy’s trial together, it still shocked him sometimes when his former archnemesis Draco Malfoy showed any interest in Harry’s well-being.

Harry quickly dropped his hand and stood normally in the doorway, like any other wizard.  _ Wix. _ He was still practicing that.

Hermione had come back to Hogwarts in full social justice advocate mode and part of her current campaign was creating more inclusive language and spaces in the wizarding world.  _ Whoops.  _ The wixen world, rather.

Case in point, across the hall, the loo now had a sign depicting a human with a wand, a house elf, a goblin, and a unicorn. Underneath the picture were the words: “Whoever you are, we don’t care, just please, *PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN* wash your hands.”

Hermione had re-branded S.P.E.W. into S.P.E.W.M.B.W.—It was now the “Society for the Promotion of Every Wix and Magical Being’s Welfare or “ _ Spew  _ M.B.W”, and it not only stood for House Elf Rights, but also the rights of all magical beings that had been suppressed by Pureblood wixen for ages—centuries really. This included, but of course wasn’t limited to, muggleborns like Hermione herself, giants, centaurs, and goblins.

Unfortunately, even Harry’s defeat of the darkest wizard— _ wix _ —of all time had done nothing to change the status quo at the ministry. Sure, they held a special election and made sure all infiltrators were tried and convicted or released as was appropriate. But then things had just basically gone back to normal. According to Hermione, and Harry, who’d practically become the the Hogwarts’ student ambassador, the Wizengamot had been stacked with blood supremacists since its inception. Five centuries of discrimination was plenty. 

It was time for a change, and Hermione, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Luna were at the forefront of the fight. Hermione projected that by the new year, S.P.E.W.M.B.W would soon have as many members as all the House’s Quidditch first string and reserve teams combined, if not more. Unlike when they were in third year, people were now ready to make some real change—they were terrified of course, but they couldn’t help trusting literal war heroes.

“Oy! Potter! I asked if you were alright?” Malfoy was looking at him quite strangely now.

“Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just got lost in thought, that’s all. Spew M.B.W. stuff.”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Right.” He returned to the book and parchment he had propped on his knees.

Harry shut the door and carefully sat on his own bed. He  _ very  _ smoothly reached for his own book as he sank into the mattress—he thought it was  _ A History of Magic _ , the 1998 revision—and opened to a random page. It was page 394. Harry’s brain couldn’t decide whether to let out an amused chuckle or a sob as an image of a slimy black-haired bully, git, and hero appeared in his mind’s eye. His brain settled on a choking sound and a harsh: “Hah!”

“You’re acting rather queer today,” Malfoy said, peering over his notes, his quill perched over the last word he’d written.

“Just today?”

“ _ Especially _ today.”

“What can I say, Malfoy…I’m a queer guy.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes and returned to his assignment.

Harry tried to get the image of the recently deceased Severus Snape out of his mind and focus on something more pleasant. Something…something…his eyes drifted to his roommate on the other side of the room.

It was definitely ironic that the two of them were paired up as roommates at the beginning of the term by the Sorting Hat. The Sorting Hat didn’t always have the most solid of reputations…

Harry couldn’t deny, however, that the two of them had become increasingly close since they’d been forced to room together during their first semester of Eighth Year.

He also couldn’t deny how quickly he’d fallen back into his old habits again of…observing.

Harry had always observed Draco. Sometimes with curiosity, sometimes with frustration, sometimes in awe, but sometimes…Harry felt his cheeks burn once more. He lifted Bathilda’s book to cover his face which was surely some incriminating shade of red again.

It was Malfoy. The name that Hermione had read off the list of people she was inviting to the combined 7 th and 8 th year party. It was  _ that _ name that made him so eager to go…to see exactly what this kind of  _ party _ might be like.

Harry could still hardly believe that Hermione, of all people, would be planning such a…festive event. He was still getting used to this new Hermione—no longer bookish and shy, she was a fierce warrior, armed with scholarly works, and she was exploring  _ all _ aspects of herself.

“Hey, Potter?”

Harry jumped and slowly lowered the history textbook, peeking out slightly at Malfoy over it. “Yes, Malfoy?”

“You busy?”

“Not particularly. Why?”

“Was just curious…you heard about Gr—Hermione’s party tonight?

Harry gulped. His throat was so dry. After casting an  _ aguamenti  _ into the cup on his nightstand, Harry took several long gulps. When he had finished the full cup, he looked down at his jumper, not wanting to meet Draco’s gaze, and fiddled with the hem of his new Christmas jumper nervously. It was knitted with multi-colored yarn this year and had a gold, emerald, yellow, and blue “8” or infinity sign knitted on the front, Harry wasn’t completely sure.

“Potter?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked you a question.”

Harry caught Malfoy’s eye and placed the textbook on his bedside table.  _ I guess we’re gonna…have a conversation now,  _ Harry thought,  _ I can do that. No problem. _

“Right. Well. Hermione did just mention it in passing downstairs, yes.”

Malfoy quirked his eyebrow at him again.  _ Why did he always have to do that?  _ It made Harry want to kiss the prat.

“And…I think I will be attending. Sounds… _ interesting _ .”

“Ah.” Malfoy gave absolutely nothing away in that monosyllabic response.

Harry was going to drive himself wild if he kept trying to analyze the ambiguous vowel sound for hidden meaning. He was going to have to have to ask.

“Are you—“ his voice cracked and Harry cleared his throat.  _ So  _ casual. “Are you going?”

“It does seem like an—to use your choice of word — _ interesting _ assortment of people going.”

Was it just Harry, or was Malfoy staring at him more intently just now?

“I believe I’ll…make an appearance,” Malfoy said, his voice soft as butter. Harry’s heart hammered in his chest.

Harry swallowed, finding his throat dry again.

“I think…Hermione said something about everyone show—”

“Locking the doors at seven in the evening and not releasing any attendees until midnight, and no exceptions so as to ensure the privacy of everyone attending? Yes, I do recall, Potter. I suppose a more  _ accurate _ choice of words would have been, ‘I will most definitely be attending.’ Are my intentions…clearer now, Potter?”

_ Fuck,  _ Harry could not take this. Without dropping eye contact with the former Slytherin, Harry deftly took his copy of  _ A History of Magic _ and placed it inconspicuously on his lap, hoping to mask his burgeoning erection.

“Er…Yyeess?” Harry asked.  _ Shit.  _ He was a total mess.

Malfoy laughed, but it was clearly without malice. “You can be a little slow sometimes, Potter. Yes, I am going to the party. You are going to the party. We’re both going to the party from seven until midnight. Sound good?”

Harry nodded quickly.  _ That _ , he’d understood immediately. Thank Merlin this conversation was over. He eagerly, yet reluctantly, dropped his gaze to his book. Harry confirmed with himself that it was safe to lift it, did so, and dazedly flipped to the next page.

“Potter?”

Harry froze. Malfoy was still talking to him. Why was he still talking to him? He’d have to ask. He didn’t dare look up from his book, terrified to get lost in those mesmerising silver eyes again. “Malfoy?”

“Would you like to go to the party with me?”

Harry dropped the book in shock. It bounced off his lap and landed on the floor of the dormitory with a solid  _ thump  _ which echoed not once, but twice, off the castle walls.

“You—you want to go to the party with me?” Harry asked, flabbergasted. He had not been expecting any sort of reciprocation for his peculiar feelings.

Malfoy walked toward Harry, whose heart accelerated like a hummingbird’s wings, and sat on the corner of Harry’s bed.

“Potter—Harry…”

Harry’s eyes widened at the use of his first name.  _ Fuck _ . Draco really was serious about this.

“Would you like to go to the party with me? I do want to clarify that I’m not interested in anything exclusive, but I am… _ really— _ ” Malfoy— _ Draco— _ chuckled. His laugh was so sexy Harry felt himself go weak in the knees. “ _ Really  _ interested in you.”

Harry licked his lips which had gone suddenly dry. “I’m…really interested in you too, Mal—Draco,” Harry said, his voice soft and breathy. It was then he noticed that Draco had stealthily slinked closer to him—only a few inches were left between them.

“I’m happy to hear it,” Draco whispered and leant forward to close the distance between them.

In that instant, their door burst open to reveal a very excited Hermione who was already shouting, “It isn’t Luna is it? In Fifth Year I could have  _ sworn… _ ”

Harry fell backwards on the bed, and Draco, completely unexpecting the former Gryffindor to pull back from the kiss, fell on top of him.

“Oh,  _ shit!  _ Sorry, Draco, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Draco said, but as he righted himself, he was bright red in the face.

Hermione was silent for a full five seconds. And then she said, quite slowly, “O-o-o-o-h. That makes sense. My bad! See you at the party later…” Hermione sang the last part as she shut the door behind her, and the two wixen on the bed each had one hand covering their faces, which were both interesting shades of sangria red.

**

“RONNNNN!!!!” Harry shouted, crashing into his best mate’s dorm room. Ron’s roommate, Neville, was currently in Greenhouse Three, and Harry knew he planned on prepping the mandrakes before celebrating Christmas with the other Seventh and Eighth Years.

“WHAAAAT?!” Ron immediately played along, shouting the word from the little table where he was sorting his chocolate frog cards.

“I HAVE A DATE.”

“FUCK YOU, YOU DO NOT!”

“I DO!”

“WOOOOOOO!!!!” Ron turned from his cards and stood to give Harry a high five. Harry participated but couldn’t hide the limp terror in his arm.

“Oh,  _ Merlin _ ,” Ron said, laughing. “You’re bloody nervous. Who is this wix?”

“You might want to sit back down for this.”

“IT’S MALFOY, ISN’T IT?”

Harry’s eyes widened, which Ron obviously took as confirmation. “ _ Bloody hell, _ mate.” Ron fell onto his bed, leaning against the headboard. “I knew this day would come.”

Harry let out a laugh, “No, you didn’t! Even  _ I  _ didn’t.”

“Harry. I’m your best mate. And I’ve known since first year that your interest in Malfoy wasn’t purely antagonistic…or even just platonic.”

Harry’s eyes grew even bigger—Oh, yeah. He was definitely taking home the prize for “Best Dobby Eyes” this year.

“I always knew you’d be last to know!” Ron burst out into laughter, thoroughly enjoying the moment. He wiped a tear from his eye. “Woo! Okay. I’m done. How do  _ you _ feel? How did this even happen?”

Harry briefly explained what had gone on in his dorm room just moments before.

“Fuck, this is exciting, mate.”

“ _ You’re _ excited?!” Harry’s tone was incredulous.

“Of course,  _ I’m _ excited. I’ve been watching you obsess over Draco Malfoy since we were eleven. ‘Bout time you two threw a  _ bombarda maxima _ under your asses already.”

“Ron, we have just one problem.”

Ron’s eyes widened.  _ Shit.  _ He might just have Harry beat for that “Best Dobby Eyes” plaque. “What’s that?”

“What the hell am I going to wear to this party tonight?”

“You came to  _ me _ with this question?!”

“Well, you’re my best mate!”

“Which means you should know full-well I know absolutely zilch, nada,  _ nothing _ about fashion.”

“You’re roommates with Neville—”

“And you think some of his brilliance has just rubbed off on me, do you?”

“What’s this about my brilliance?” Neville had just entered the room. He was holding his Earthy gloves in his hands. He really had a knack for timing, good or bad.

“Harry-has-a-date-with-Malfoy-to-the-party-tonight!”

“Are you serious?! That’s brilliant! Finally…” Neville beamed at him, and Harry smiled back. His secret crush must not have been so secret after all.

“Neville,” Ron said, “We have a serious problem.”

“What is it, Ronald?”

“Harry doesn’t know what to wear on his date with Malfoy.”

“That is quite a conundrum.”

“Do you think you can help him out?”

“I HAVE JUST THE THING, YOU BOTH JUST WAIT RIGHT HERE!”

**

Part 2:Visions in Emerald and Navy

Harry and Draco had agreed to meet in front of the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy at 6:55 p.m. It was now 6:47 p.m. and Harry was starting to sweat, becoming more and more nervous as the meeting time drew nearer.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so anxious.

Playing Quidditch, third year, and falling off his broom. That had been quite nerve-wracking. Oh, wait. Facing the Horntail—definitely had to be that… _Nope!_ Almost drowning in the Black Lake that was the worst. Wait! He’d forgotten the Dementors. 

_ Ha!  _ Harry chuckled mentally at himself, then realized.  _ Woah.  _ He’d just listed four horrifying events and he hadn’t scratched the surface. He had to laugh out loud when he realized he’d even forgotten  _ Lord Voldemort himself _ . And yet, Harry couldn’t remember the last time he was so nervous as he paced in front of the tapestry.

Harry’s head snapped up as he heard footsteps approaching. His eyes widened and he froze, rooted to the spot. There, on the staircase landing, having just turned around the corner, was Draco. He was wearing a stunningly festive outfit—an emerald green paisley and navy vest and bow tuxedo set. He wore no jacket, just a simple but beautiful white button up oxford shirt with glittery gold  _ Snitch _ buttons.

Harry had felt rather handsome himself, standing there in his slim-fit long-sleeve white pleated tuxedo shirt he’d borrowed from Neville and the skinny navy-blue velvet dress trousers which highlighted his “sexy but tiny sass ass” as Ron had called it.  _ But damn, Draco was looking eminently fuckable, _ Harry thought as he whined, in a way he hoped was inaudible as the other wix was getting closer to him. Just like he had in their bedroom earlier that day.

As Draco finally ascended the stairs, he made a beeline for Harry, who felt the other wix taking in Harry’s own party attire as he approached. He felt positively stripped bare as Draco’s eyes slid from the top of his hair, down the pleated tuxedo shirt, to his velvet dress trousers. Thank Merlin Harry was standing sideways _. _ This meant that his perfect little ass was on full display for the former Slytherin—who, Harry now noticed, was carrying a small red box with a green ribbon.

“You—” Harry began, but he just stood there with his mouth open, unable to find the words to describe how beautiful he found the other wix in that moment.

Draco smiled, a pink flush tickling his cheeks. “Thank you, Harry,” he murmured. “You look— _ so _ good in those velvet pants. I…” He licked his lips. Then, blinking, Draco seemingly changed his mind about what to say before continuing, “I can’t believe you chose something so…fitting.” He let out a slow breath. “Anyway, I have a gift for you.”

Harry’s jaw dropped even more. “No, you don’t,” he said unthinkingly.

Thankfully, Draco only laughed. “I assure you P—Harry. I certainly do. Here—” He put the red box in his left hand and held his right hand out for Harry to take. Harry held his breath as he lifted his hand and placed it gently in Draco’s. His magic exploded.

Okay, it wasn’t that bad. But there definitely was a buzzing, some zinging, and Draco met his eyes in surprise. Then, the gorgeous wix smiled at Harry, the grin widening as realization dawned on him.  _ Fuck.  _ His feelings for Draco were definitely not a mystery anymore. He’d just given himself completely away. He felt just as naked as he had when Draco’s eyes had been eating him up only a mere moment ago.

Draco pressed the red box into Harry’s hand, but  _ didn’t let go _ .

“What is it?” Harry’s voice shook.

“You’ll see,” Draco murmured.

Harry couldn’t resist the opportunity to do a simple nonverbal unwrapping charm. To his utter delight, the ribbon didn’t tangle, but fell to the floor in an elegant cascade. Harry’s stomach flipped when he saw Draco’s Adam’s apple bob before he released a content sigh.  _ Oh, how Harry wished he knew what the former Slytherin was thinking _ .

He intently lifted the lid off of the present—to reveal a navy-blue paisley bow tie which matched Draco’s emerald one. It was obviously from the same set, and Harry’s heart swelled at the sickeningly sweet gesture.

“Draco…” Harry started, gratitude in his tone, then he checked the color. “Wait a minute. Is that—”

“It sure looks like it’s the same color as your pants. Navy-blue?”

“Yes!”

Draco chuckled. “That’s brilliant. Just brilliant, I love that. Serendipity.”

“Serendipity,” Harry agreed. “I must admit though… I have no idea how to tie a bowtie.”

Draco quipped his brow again, “Oh, Potter. You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. Please. Allow me.”

With a flourishing wave, Draco detached the bowtie from its perch inside the red box with a nonverbal charm.  _ He’s showing off, too. That’s so hot. _

He took the bowtie from where it hovered in midair and pocketed the box. He looped the tie behind Harry’s neck, allowing the left side to dangle slightly lower over the pleated bib of Harry’s tuxedo shirt.

Harry inhaled slowly. Draco was so near to him, Harry could smell his cologne and something so distinctly _Malfoy_. Nothing new—Harry had gotten used to the slight aroma of mint and citrus, catching a whiff of it at inopportune moments…and making Harry instantly hard.

_ Moments like  _ now, Harry thought with an internal groan. He maneuvered his legs slightly, hoping to hide his second burgeoning erection of the day. As he did so, Draco deftly maneuvered the two separate sides of the bowtie, weaving them in, out, and around each other with his long, nimble fingers, seemingly oblivious to guests arriving for the party—and the ever-growing party in Harry’s pants. Harry honestly thought he might come in his pants from the other wix simply tying his tie. But he kept himself together.

After about a minute, Draco stepped back slightly to admire his work.

“Well?” Harry asked, taking deep breaths to settle himself and hopefully his erection, which was now so large it was making his skinny fit trousers feel extra tight around the groin area. It was glaringly obvious, and no sooner had Draco finished checking his knot did his eyes slip downwards and land upon Harry’s bulge, now quite massive under the tight velvet pants.

“Oh, dear, Potter…” Draco murmured, so quietly that Harry found himself leaning forward slightly to make sure he heard every word. “You seem to have developed a slight…problem.”

“Yes,” Harry panted.

“Well…I guess it depends on if you think having a raging hard-on walking into a sex party is a problem.”

“I… would definitely prefer… not to come… right now…” Harry said breathlessly through gritted teeth. A few beads of sweat had formed on his brow and he wiped them away with the back of his hand.

“Hmm… Harry, how interested are you in... experiments?”

“What do you mean?”

“Experimentation. Sexually. With me. With others.” Draco shrugged nonchalantly, and his confidence was sexy as hell. Harry found himself incapable of breathing as the words  _ experimentation _ and  _ sexually _ spun around in his head.

Tranquil as a forest, but a fire within. Harry knew that if he could just find his center, he would be sure to win. He would not be spineless.  _ Shit. What should he say?  _ His blood and magic pulsed hot and swift as a coursing river. With all the force of a great typhoon, and with all the strength of a raging fire, Harry said, “Er—yes.” He blushed as he realized that that was not the correct answer to Draco’s question. “Er, much— _ very.  _ Very interested.”

Draco grinned and winked.“Come—” 

He pulled Harry into the loo next to the Room of Requirement. The restroom door was wrapped like a Christmas present, a large red bow at the center. “What would you say to something like... this?” Draco took out his wand and conjured something silver and gold, but quickly hid it in his fist.

“Well, Draco, I honestly can’t see it too well. Perhaps, you could move your fingers just a tiny bit?”

Draco snorted. “You’re funny, Potter,” he purred. “I like that.”

Harry felt his cock twitch, as if it were begging him.  _ Draco.  _ Or Harry, to set it free from these ultra-constrictive trousers.

Draco’s eyes darted to Harry’s groin. A smile spread easily across Draco’s lips, and Harry shivered at being observed so intimately by the other wix.

“Ask if you can see it,” Draco asked. “Politely.”

This time, an even stronger shiver coursed down Harry’s spine. He saw what Draco was offering…and he was eager to lap it up.

“Show me. Please,” he begged.

Draco’s lips curled downwards in a slight frown. “That was not a question. I seem to recall I told you to  _ ask _ me. Harry.”

“I’m sorry, Draco,” Harry said, his breath catching on the apology.

“You’re sorry…sir.” Draco hissed the last word, and Harry groaned aloud.

“I’m terribly sorry, s-s-sir,” Harry said, “Could you please, sir, show me what it is you have conjured? Pretty please?” he added, as an afterthought, batting his eyelashes.  _ Fuck, Harry was impressed by his own boldness.  _ Well, he was a Gryffindor after all.

Draco’s lips, which had been pulled in a small frown a few seconds ago were now spreading upwards in a satisfied smirk. He slowly, ever so slowly, uncurled his fingers, revealing the small festive trinket. Harry’s eyes widened as they landed on a silver ring. It looked like an elaborately-worked cuff bracelet, though it was definitely too small to fit on even Harry’s skinny wrist. At the top of the silver ring, the metal flowed up into gilded antlers. 

“Is this—” Harry began.

“For that unruly cock trying to escape your criminally tight trousers?” Draco purred in his ear. The hairs on Harry’s neck stood on end. 

“Terrible manners, really.” Draco clucked his tongue. “But pets worth training get collars, don’t they?”

Harry attempted to speak, but settled for a choppy nod and an undignified whimper.

Draco began to unbutton and unzip the former Gryffindor’s trousers. A Gryffindor who couldn’t believe the fear pounding through his body at the prospect of Draco touching him…there. “May I place this ring around your cock, Harry?” Draco asked, and the words sounded so bloody hot in the other wix’s mouth.

Harry’s lips parted and he let out a groan and needy whine.

“That was not an answer,” Draco chastised, his tone playfully light.

“I’m sorry, sir. Please put the ring on my cock, sir. I would love that. Very much.” Harry’s cheeks burned hot.

Draco unbuttoned the small clear buttons on Harry’s pants, under which his cock was desperately attempting to spring free. He was particularly careful to slip the ring over the head and down Harry’s shaft without touching his bare skin. 

Draco murmured something unintelligible, and the ring began to glow gold, slipping down Harry’s cock to rest at its base. The antlers lay flat against his body, shining softly in the low light. The image was so fucking sexy, Harry couldn’t contain the moan that surpassed his lips—his pleasure raw and unmasked.

Draco used a little wandless magic to pack Harry away again, buttoning his pants and trousers and zipping him up. It was as though Harry’s cock were a late Christmas gift to be wrapped.

“Er…Thank you, sir. What…may I ask what if it has any…magical…properties?”

“Why, yes, Harry. It does. And you’re welcome.”

Harry frowned. He hadn’t gotten the information he had sought after.

“What does it  _ do _ ?”

Suddenly, Harry felt a tight little squeeze around his shaft and gasped audibly.

“Hmm?” Draco asked innocently, avoiding Harry’s gaze.

“What does it do, sir?” Harry tested.

The reindeer cuff loosened, and Harry sighed in relief.

“Is it okay?” Draco asked. He had finally turned his eyes to meet Harry’s, and the latter saw Draco’s grey eyes sparkle in the candlelight illuminating the room.

Harry nodded.

“Can you give me a verbal ‘yes?’”

“Yes!” Harry said eagerly.

“It will also keep you from coming until you are ready…or should I say, when I decide you’re ready.”

Harry’s eyebrows jumped so high he felt them disappear under his grown-out fringe.

“If that’s also alright?” Draco asked again for Harry’s consent, not touching him anymore, just holding very steady eye contact.

“Yes,” Harry said, slower and steadier this time.

“Marvelous,” Draco said. “Shall we?”

“Shall we what?”

Draco chuckled, amused by Harry’s distracted state. “To the party, Harry.”

Harry checked his watch. It was indeed 7:05.  _ Shit!  _ Thank fuck Harry was best friends with the party organizer. He was sure Hermione was waiting impatiently for him and Draco so she could lock the doors.

“We really should get going. Hermione won’t be happy with us.”

“Or,” Draco considered, “she’ll be thrilled at the sexual energy and tension we’re bringing to the party.”

“This is a possibility,” Harry said, he wandlessly unlocked the bathroom door and removed the silencing charm. The door opened outwards into the hallway, where Hermione was tapping her foot, arms crossed over her chest.

“ _ There _ you are. Finally.”

“Sorry, ‘Mione.”

“Oh, look!” Hermione sneakily pulled a sprig of mistletoe out from behind her back, flourishing her wand with the other hand to affix it to the middle of the doorframe.

Harry stared at her. “You’re serious?”

“You waste my time, I waste yours.” Hermione grinned, an evil glint in her eye.

“You can’t make us kiss. You said that mistletoe is charmed to let anyone backout of the charm if they aren’t willing.” Harry remembered her having explained the tricky little bit of consent magic before she’d listed the different party invitees.

“And…are you telling me you’re not willing to kiss Malfoy right now, underneath the mistletoe?” Hermione smiled smugly. She’d caught him there.

And she’d also caught him under the mistletoe with Malfoy, whom he was most definitely willing to kiss.

“If you kiss, the charm will release you, and you may come join the party,” Hermione explained, playfully bossy.

“Someone’s horny,” Draco said, smirking.

“Obviously,” she huffed. “In or out, boys. But I’m hoping for ‘in’.”

Harry turned to face Draco.

“May we?” Harry asked, politely. Not sure he wanted to call Draco  _ sir _ in front of Hermione just yet but was relieved when the ring around his cock hummed gently. Draco was obviously pleased at his politeness, the lack of honorific notwithstanding.

“We may,” Draco said, and he leaned forward, capturing Harry’s lips with his. Harry allowed the slightly taller wix to lead the kiss, enjoying being in the submissive role. He savored the taste of Draco in his mouth, having fantasized about it for Merlin-knows how long, and he wasn’t letting Draco go any time soon.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Hermione whispered appreciatively as she turned to leave. 

Draco moved away slightly, his breath tickling Harry’s lip as he chuckled. They felt the magic of the mistletoe charm shiver, crystallize, and soundlessly shatter into an infinite number of pieces.

They could freely move from underneath the door now but neither of them did. 

Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly cannot believe that Day 25 is over. I know it sounds a bit cheesy, but this 25 Day Advent Challenge has changed me signficantly. My entire approach to writing has been uprooted and shook around a bit, being replanted in a brand new garden. Three actually. A03. Tumblr. Discord. This is only the beginning. But this was such a wonderful experience.
> 
> Thank you so much to my Betas vukovich and crazybutgood who spent hours with me on Google Docs making these stories so magical and wonderful. And I hope all of you here on Ao3 had just as much fun reading as we did writing. :* xo

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my Betas Vukovich and crazybutgood for their wonderful support throughout this challenge <3
> 
> Check them out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vukovich/  
> and  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazybutgood


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